The Doorkeeper's Mind

by E. L. Morrow

  At 2:10 the Supervisor got back to them, saying the request had been denied. He cited the lengthy process, and multiple verifications required before anything could reach this stage.

  They continued their work to find a place to block the detrimental activity of the program. Each time they thought they had a solution, they soon discover a way around their fix had been built-in.

  “Appears they anticipated everything we might do to counter the destruction.”

  “Precisely.”

  Next thing they try is to disable or change the location of all the funds intended to be transferred away from the economy. But the destination of the transfer is missing. They conclude it must be in the activation code.

  First, they had to obtain the activation code. Like the detonator for an explosive device, the code is separate from the program it is to initiate.

  That meant another call to Timothy’s Supervisor, who was not happy to hear from them. He reluctantly agreed to send them the activation code sequence, with the assurance they would only examine the code.

  In 15 minutes, three major issues are uncovered. The code will be activated at 11:00 am, Eastern time. “Meaning we have an hour less than we thought.”

  Second, the source for activation is blank. It will be sent from a remote location. Once this discovery is made, Thompson says, “All we need to do is find the frequency and block its transmission.” Rudy agrees, and they soon identify the specific frequency, which leads to the unresolvable third issue.

  The required signal cannot be blocked—it is using a reserved frequency. Back in the 80s, the government and military agencies created a communication system that would work following a total collapse of the power grid. Rudy thinks, “That cinches it. This must be the work of The General. No one other than his cronies can obtain access to those channels.”

  Rudy says, “Our only option is waiting for the signal, try to trace it back to its source, and block it before the transfer of data begins. Then we can redirect it to a holding computer network.”

  “I’m afraid I agree. What do you think our chances are?”

  “Perhaps one in twenty-five. We should have three minutes before the transfer starts. We need to get as many sources working on the trace as possible. I’m going to call in all my markers from those who owe me a favor. You need to tell your super what we’ve found. We’ll keep this line open.”

  The speaker in Rudy’s quarters comes on and says, “Rudy, you have a call from Marie. You need to take it.”

  Forty-Seven

  Working on the Breakthrough

  Wichita

  2095-09-20, Tuesday, 4:55 am CDT

  While waiting for Dr. Norris to bring Mr. James Calhoun up to date, Marie and Danzella ensure that WEEL is safely disconnected from the economy tracking.

  “At least we are sure the Liquid-Lava details and how to make the robots to build it are safe.”

  Danzella says, “This whole thing could simply be a ruse to gain access to sensitive computers like those at WEEL.”

  “If that’s the case we must be sure Friend is safe from intrusion.”

  Hearing their conversation, the Personal Assistant says, “Phillip installed numerous fail-safes in my external interface. No one can reach my circuits or memory from the outside.”

  Danzella says, “I remember Rudy telling me something like that about your PA.”

  Lexie is reviewing the night tapes throughout Wichita, looking for any other unusual activity. With the help of Security 23, she can view those who entered the data storage areas of the Financial Sector Buildings.

  She reports, “The three unidentified men who entered last night are dressed like computer techs, but they are wearing SOG look-alikes. Video record shows they’ve done nothing all night, except take up positions making it impossible to reach the circuitry without passing them. They are armed with two stunners each, and another weapon I’ve never seen.”

  Danzella takes one look at the outline of the unknown weapon, and declares, “It’s a heat ray.”

  “I thought that was fiction.”

  “The CIA developed it more than 40 years ago. They wanted to use it in enhanced interrogation, but it was unpredictable, and would kill the subject without warning. Now I’ve said too much.”

  Marie says, “Forgotten.”

  “However, it distorts metal and silicon objects efficiently. My guess is they plan to use it on the data stacks. If one path becomes overwhelmed the others start melting the circuits. They are set up to defend the electronics against those who would execute a fix.”

  Friend announces, “Vivi is approaching the door, I will admit her.”

  She enters carrying three laptops. One she hands to Marie saying, “This is WEEL, complete financial history, keep it safe. Mr. James Calhoun thinks we should work from here because this place is impenetrable; he and my successor are at my old office.” Vivi had been the group supervisor for the error correction team until the attack on her nephews and their dates. Vivi now serves as Chief Financial Officer for the companies created by Phillip Walton.

  Marie takes the Walton Enterprises computer to the floor vault in her closet as Danzella begins to tell Vivi about the intruders. Vivi interrupts, “Wait. Let’s bring Mr. Calhoun in on this.”

  The situation is detailed including Danzella’s best guess about the weapon and their strategy. Vivi says, “What they don’t know is, we can disconnect remotely.”

  “You’re right,” says Mr. Calhoun, “Do you remember the code?”

  “Of course. It was because of my group’s work that we might need a quick disconnect. I repeated the code each morning as I reached the office, to refresh my memory.” She then gave the code to Mr. Calhoun out of earshot, and they discussed the best time to use it.

  Mr. Calhoun requests Marie to contact Rudy, “I have been trying to reach him, but he is out of touch. He has been working with a sector night clerk in Philadelphia all night. I’ll try another number.”

  Marie calls Cyclops Institute’s central number. She gives a code identifying her and a scramble code number. As before, each digit is increased by one.

  The call comes Marie answers and explains to the security officer the necessity of speaking to Rudy.

  Cyclops institute, Near Seattle

  2095-09-20, Tuesday, 6:15 am PDT

  Rudy answers, “Marie, now is not a good time.”

  “Mr. James Calhoun is listening in on our conversation. We are working on the same thing here that you are ….”

  Mr. Calhoun interjects, “I’m going to contact my Guidance Team, but I need what you’ve learned so far.”

  “We’ve contacted them, or Mr. Thompson’s Supervisor did. They say the program was properly vetted, and our conclusions are likely wrong.”

  “Who did he contact?”

  “The Operations Oversight Officer.”

  Mr. Calhoun knows that person and does not respect him. I’m guessing Mr. C is a member of the Guidance Team. I’m not trying to read his thoughts, it just happens. Like looking to the left; finding someone standing there; before you can glance away you notice they are naked.

  Rudy explains what they learned, including about the activation sequence. Mr. James Calhoun realizes his idea of disconnecting each center from the feed will not work. He presents his second idea, “Wichita is disconnected. We possess memory capacity to store data from two other centers—we could receive and keep it safe until this is cleared up.”

  Vivi reaches the heart of the matter: verification. She announces her findings to the group, “This upgrade has been examined by only three authenticators—two are bogus, the third a well-respected company in Atlanta. I contacted them. They never worked on this project. The Verification code matches a project they confirmed two years ago.”

  Calhoun replies, “That is sufficient to cancel the test. It also confirms my suspicions that someone on the Financial Guidance Team is in the opposition’s pocket
. I’ll call my contacts on the GT.”

  Vivi says to everyone within hearing, “At least six independent verifying companies are required for such a massive project.”

  Mr. James Calhoun is using his influence to get some high-level cooperation. Vivi contacts the group leader at the Toronto center tasked with the same error correcting responsibility as her former team in Wichita. She explains there is a quick disconnect from the network for their site.

  Danzella is working with Detective 23, Fenton Jefferson, and his partner, Lisa, Security 93, on how to remove the three from the computer stacks at Financial Sector Offices. “Use of stunners in the area could damage the data storage units. Tranquilizer darts would be a possibility; since they’re not wearing SOGs, we can try to knock them out. No guarantee that we can prevent them from damaging stacks before passing out.”

  Dr. Norris, using his communicator and a work pad, is sending a general alert to all Doorkeeper Supervisory Centers in the US, Canada, Europe, and Japan. Meanwhile, Marie is sending an urgent message to the Raven’s Nest members via an erasing website. They are informed of the nature of the impending disaster. She concludes, “Their intention appears obvious—the destruction of the economy by diverting all funds. So far, all efforts to correct were anticipated and circumvented by the software. Will keep you posted as we are able. Dr. London.”

  Near Seattle

  2095-09-20, Tuesday, 7:21 am PDT

  Dr. French has been pacing for almost an hour. His focus seems clearer. He is no longer acting violently, screaming, or pointing. His movements are deliberate, and his mumbling is intelligible.

  “Must stop … how stop …? Fix … must be a fix …. Made fix … where is fix?”

  Allison is watching her friend, hoping … believing … knowing any moment a breakthrough will come. Then like flipping a light switch it happens.

  “Dr. French” takes Allison by the shoulders, looks straight into her eyes, and says, “Babe … has … fix.”

  Allison remembers, “Babe is the name Phillip used for the Automated Personal Assistant that he upgraded significantly.”

  She says, “Babe? That was Phillip’s name for …. Do you remember Phillip?”

  He releases Allison’s arms and makes his hands into fists with the thumbs pointing up. He then jabs his thumbs at his chest making the universally recognized sign for “me.”

  Allison says, “You’re Phillip?” He nods his head up and down.

  Now she is acting like the deranged one, jumping up and pointing toward a blank viewing screen and shouting, “Babe can fix it?”

  Phillip smiles and says, “I remembered.”

  Allison is on her communicator calling Marie.

  “Hello B. Are you, all right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Can we talk later? We’re in a mess here.”

  “I understand … I’m with Phillip.”

  “Don’t you mean Dr. Fr…”

  Allison whispers, “No Phill…up. He says ‘Babe’ has a fix ….”

  “Friend, is one of your special files named ‘fix’?”

  “Negative.”

  Phillip, hearing every word, picks up a pad and pencil and scrawls an “F” followed by a dot. He starts to write an “I” …

  Allison asks Marie, “What about F dot I dot X dot?”

  Marie repeats to her Personal Assistant.

  The PA responds, “Affirmative. Size is 708 terabytes.”

  Rudy says, “But we cannot access the original. The upgrade is integrated into the system.”

  Friend says, “No matter. I can use the back-door.”

  The next ten minutes are spent obtaining clearance from the Financial Guidance Council. As suspected, Mr. Calhoun’s influence with the council is strong. Permission comes at 9:32 Central Daylight Time. He is talking to someone in Milwaukee. Marie thinks that must be where the current Moderator works.

  Friend clarifies the specific address needed to enter the F.I.X. file. The connection is made, and the uploading begins at 9:35 am. Friend says, “approximate time 42 minutes.”

  Marie says, “But we only have 25 minutes.”

  Rudy responds, “We may pick up three to five minutes when the key is sent. Sixty-five of us are trying to triangulate and block his reception. We can’t be sure of success, but we should be able to locate the final destination before everything is gone.”

  The PA says, “If you grant me access to the console’s wireless connection I can increase the bandwidth.”

  “Do it.”

  “I will not be able to speak to you, only text.”

  “Not a problem.”

  At 9:40 Friend texts, “Estimated completion at 10:10.”

  The news is shared with everyone.

  Vivi says, “We’ll be five to eight minutes late.”

  “At least there won’t be time to steal everything,” says Mr. Calhoun.

  Allison tells Marie, “My companion here is listening to all of this. He says answer yes to every question.”

  Vivi understands, “Of course, hesitation screens will appear—answer ‘go forward’ not stop or cancel.”

  Forty-Eight

  Will Greed Win Again?

  Off the South-West Coast of Africa

  2095-09-20, Tuesday, 4:50 pm GMT

  In a massive super-yacht, eight hundred miles off the coast of South Africa, a forty-something black man wearing army fatigues sits in front of a wall of monitors. There is no reason for him to speak, but if he did his voice would be reminiscent of a 98-year-old white male with a southern accent.

  When the doctors surgically transferred The General’s mind including parts of other organs into the body of a 38-year-old Nigerian, they fell short with the vocal apparatus. The host’s vocal cords would not accept the “seeding,” so they had to transplant his entire voice box.

  Their biggest error in judgment was choosing a man who would resist, both mentally and hormonally, to having his life erased in favor of an old, racist, violent and delusional despot. Once the host learned that what was happening to him would not advance medical science, he began to resist. He put up a spiritual fight. With each new imposition of the other’s cells into his organs, he willed his body to reject the alien. The host managed to leave behind, to this day, a residue of hormones and antibodies to fight The General’s immoral behavior.

  Sitting in his control room The General reflects as he prepares to savor his victory over The Plan.

  The General reminisces, “Bluefoot was a fool to abandon me. I sent people to pluck him out before the indictments were delivered. But he had vanished, cleaning out his funds, and some of mine. He’s covered his tracks well, planning all along to abandon me. He hated me. After everything I did for him! When I find him, he’ll pay; he’ll pay dearly.

  “That’s for another day. Today is about money. Bluefoot thought he could bring down the economy, all by himself. He thought he could keep it from me. He never knew I heard every word he said, all his plans and arm twisting. When he hired people to put together this ‘improvement’ for Financial Services I heard it all.

  “Not long now. In a few minutes, I send the key. The new format will be activated throughout the financial centers. Then all the Programmed States’ money will disappear. All mine.

  “Now we’ll see how those do-gooders try to talk their way out of this. Nobody in the Programmed States will have a dime. Panic will set in. People will revolt. Of course, I will loan them enough to get by, but only with interest. How much should I charge? I’ll start with 20% and go up from there.

  “Doesn’t matter. Their system is dead. It’ll be a long night tonight counting my money. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be the undisputed master of the world. If needed, I’ll unleash the new and improved Invincible Ones on them.

  “Time to send the key. Sent. Now I wait for 3 minutes.” Timed to arrive in New York a few seconds after 11:00 am Eastern Daylight Time.

  Th
e wall across from his desk holds 36 monitors; all but one displays a different Financial Sector’s Center throughout the Structured States, Canada, Japan, England, and several other European countries. Obtaining links to this information should be impossible.

  He thinks, “Thanks to my contact on the inside of the system, I will see it as it happens from the comfort of my chair. He’s been useful, but he may develop a conscience after he sees all the mayhem. Time for him to die.” As he thinks about the order, he sent to an operative “to take care of him—tomorrow” The General experiences a sharp pain in his gut and neck.

  He utters a string of profanity and adds, “… damn doctors can’t tell me why I have these pains. They’re getting worse … lasting longer. The pain is like a skewer running through my gut right side to left. Maybe a surgery scar there. Neck burns like a hot coal, under my right ear. Well, it’s passing for now.”

  Glancing to his left, he notices the screen for the Minneapolis center displays a message.

  System Activated

  Continue Upload?

  Yes No

  Someone clicked “Yes.”

  “Wonder what that’s about? No matter…”

  His eye is drawn to the screen directly in front of him containing only 20 zeros. The ten zeros on the far right become a blur. They are changing faster than can be seen. Only the tens and hundreds of millions can be read as the other digits remain a blur. In the same manner, the numerals from the New York Center are scrolling downward. His counter reaches the billions as summary statements for individuals and services are reduced to zero. Soon the trillion-dollar columns replace the zero with a whole number.