Heavier Than Air

by T. E. Vario (t_e_vario@yahoo. com)

  “Why is it so important to have eight spaces?”

  “Because the encryption engine scrambles each set of eight characters as a block. What I’m seeing with the repeated blocks of eight characters is eight spaces encrypted with the same secret key each time. That’s why it comes out with the same scrambled digits. We can’t read it, but we know what it says.”

  “I’m beginning to follow Sara. You are telling me that the Gengon never changes the key they are using to scramble the data. If we learn the key once, we can read every single one of their messages.”

  “That is correct sir. What’s beter is that we only need to break the single eight character sequence that we already know contains eight spaces when unscrambled.”

  Largo’s huge face gradually lit up into an enormous smile. His mind was clearly processing the information. Sara waited.

  “Magnificant work Sara. You have obviously given the final solution some thought. What do you need to break the key that scrambles those eight characters.”

  Sara cleared her throat. Even though she did not like the man, she could not help but take some satisfaction in his complementing her approach. She continued.

  “I just need more computer horsepower. It should only take a few days to a week on a fast server to do a brute force attack on the eight characters. I need access to one or more fast machines that are not heavily loaded with other chores.”

  Sara waited. She had just slipped in the bait. Would Largos bite?

  “Yes, yes, very reasonable. I think we have two machines that only have high workloads during a narrow time window. You could use both machines during the rest of the time, say for 20 hours per day. Would that be adequate?”

  Got him.

  “Yes Sir, that would be excellent. I’ll set up the attack program so that it runs only during specified hours, and then starts up again where it left off.”

  “Right. I’ll get accounts set up for you on those machines with the access rights you will need. I’ll hand carry them down to you as soon as they are ready.”

  Heinrich Largos paused, and then continued.

  “Sara, if you can break those Gengon codes, we will have a huge advantage in the war effort. We must keep this information completely secret. Don’t share it with anyone, anyone at all. Come to me the moment you have a result, either positive or negative. Understood?”

  “Understood Sir.”

  What Sara did not know was whether Largos wanted the information kept secret to help their side or the Gengon. She would know in a few days.

  * * *

  Heinrich Largos came to her office after 30 minutes and gave her a slip of paper. On it were her ID and password on two servers. Sara was delighted to see that she had been granted a high level of access to each machine, and both were involved in backups. One backed up server data, which was of little use to Sara, but the other one did the workstation backups. She had the bullet and the gun.

  She decided to get the cover story software running first. Everything she had told Largos was true, and she did feel very close to breaking the Gengon codes. She set up both computers to start at different ends of the possible range of secret combinations that the Gengon might be using, and work towards the center. The process was simple. Try a possible combination to scramble a sequence of eight space characters and see if it gave the same sequence of eight scrambled characters that she was finding in the intercepted messages. When she got an exact match, she would have the secret combination the Gengon were using. She had 20 hours per day on two very fast computers. The worst case was that the secret combination was in the exact middle of the range, in which case it would take slightly over a week to find it. Who knows, she might get lucky and find it today.

  After getting those processes going, she went to insert her snooping program into the workstation backup process. She found instruction sequence that was activated each night, and just added her program to it. She then went back and hacked the date on the instruction file to make it look as if it had not been edited in months.

  So far so good. Sara spent an hour checking the progress of the decryption programs. Everything seemed to be working fine, she just had to wait for a result. As to her snooping program, nothing would happen on the workstations until the backup process ran in the evening. She fiddled with a pencil, and then decided to double-check the edits she had made.

  Everything checked out. Her program was letter perfect. She just had to wait. She was about to shut down her workstation when she looked at the date on the file. The access records showed that someone had just been into the backup script in the last 30 minutes. That could only mean that someone was following her steps. Her heart was racing. She looked again at the code she had put in – they had not changed it at all, but could have detected her changes if they knew what to look for.

  Perhaps she could find out who was tracking her. Sara issued a few commands to check which users were logged in. The machine showed a list containing only her ID, with no other users logged in for almost a day. It was like hearing footsteps behind you, but seeing nothing when you turned around.

  Whoever was watching her was very good.

  * * *

  Benjamin Fowler, head of the Northern Council, greeted his brother Abraham within the president’s chambers.

  “Good to see you Abe. You’re looking fit.”

  “Great to see you too Ben. You seem to be taking care of yourself.” Abe looked around his brother’s office and saw nothing but opulence. Ben had a huge desk, bookcases with glass doors, a conference table with twelve chairs, and a number of paintings on the walls. Not bad for a bastard boy from the sticks.

  “How’s the campaign against the settlers going?”

  “Go’in OK, but slow. They’re spread all over creation and it takes us weeks just to find them. I’ve been recruiting a few more men, which should speed things up a bit.”

  “Has anyone caught wind of the link between us?”

  “Nah Ben. All the Geckos knows we’re brothers, but they all figure I’m the dark sheep of the family. The men kill just cause they enjoy it, not for any political reason.”

  “That’s great Abe. I hear they call you ‘Bear’ now. Sounds fitting.”

  “Yeah. Don’t know where the name came from, but I don’t mind.”

  The men chit-chatted about old times for a while, and then Abe ushered his brother out the side door. Once Bear was gone, Benjamin Fowler called in his chief of security, Marta Atonavich. She was a tiny woman, but stood perfectly erect. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, which gave her small head a streamlined look. If she had any emotions, Benjamin had never seen a sign of them.

  “Marta, it’s time we took steps to neutralize the Geckos. They have served a purpose, but too large a group of armed men is dangerous.”

  “Yes Sir. I can put together a few teams of counter-agents to take them out. I assume that you would like our participation kept a secret.”

  “Absolutely. Make sure they don’t have any identification or direct links back to us. This needs to be strictly below the surface.”

  “Understood. And if you brother should be in the group attacked?”

  “Half-brother. He’s the biggest threat, so make sure you take him out.”

  “Yes Sir. The operation will start immediately. What code word would you like to use for this?”

  “Hmm. I guess ‘Bear Trap’ is too obvious. Why don’t we use ‘hibernation’?”

  “Hibernation it is. Good night Sir.”

  “Good night Marta. Pleasant dreams.”

  Marta gave him a look that could cut steal. If she had any dreams, they certainly were not going to be pleasant.

  Mark Kauf and his team were tired to an extent they would not have believed possible two weeks ago. They had been hiking for days, been through a firefight, and were now constantly checking their tracks for signs of being followed. They also had the responsibility for caring for Jaques, the boy who had been orphaned in front of their eyes.
They had all become very fond of the brave eleven-year-old, but Menard was especially attached. They shared a common heritage and Jaques seemed to be adopting Menard as the big brother he had never had. Jaques still wept for his family in the evenings, but his toughness was incredible. Jaques was a survivor.

  “You know, Jaques understands everything you say. I’ve just got to get him comfortable speaking English.” Menard was sitting next to Jaques while all five of them took a break. Hirotomi could not fully relax, and kept circling the area, listening. Mark and Clawson were sprawled out on the ground next to a fallen tree. They were down to less than 4000 feet of elevation and only one and a half-day’s hike from Camp Williams. Although the pine trees, elms, and mulberries around them were strikingly beautiful, the appeal of a warm shower was far greater. They wanted to get home.

  “Tell you what Jaques, I’ll speak French if you speak English. My French is very bad, so you can’t do any worse with your English.” Mark was smiling at him. “Deal?”

  Jaques looked at Menard for reassurance, and then said “Deal.”

  “OK, here goes,” said Mark. “Ju appel Mark. Ju sweeze American. Ju em le fromage.”

  Menard and Jaques broke out laughing. Menard blurted out “That is terrible. We must teach you proper French. Please teach him Jaques. I could not bear to hear any more like that.”

  The eleven-year-old nodded. “OK, I will teach him.”

  Menard was smiling like a big brother who’s little brother has just scored a big goal.

  * * *

  By twilight they had reached the last ridge overlooking the valley containing Camp Williams. Menard, Jaques, Clauson and Hirotomi sat down while Mark climbed to a local high point. He needed to report in to Camp Williams with the IR unit before they set up watch rotations and went to sleep. There was a light overcast and little moon. Mark used his compass and map to estimate the direction to the receiver located in a tower on the Camp perimeter. He pointed is transmitter into the blackness and pushed the transmit button.

  Charlie Base, Foxtrot Squad reporting in, over.

  Roger Foxtrot, what is your position?

  Mark checked the map again. They used a grid numbering system to report positions so as to disguise where they were. The grids changed every time they were issued new maps.

  Foxtrot is at sector 24B, on trail at ridgeline.

  Roger Foxtrot. Mounted team will intercept you at 20:15 hours. Have a good ride home.

  Understood, Foxtrot Out.

  Mark hurried down to the rest of the squad.

  “You’re not going to believe this. They are sending a mounted team here to pick us up. We will be riding home tonight.”

  “Hot Damn!” said Clauson. “We’re going back to base in style.”

  Menard did not look quite as pleased as the rest of the squad. “I wonder if it is us they are after. Did you tell them Jaques was with us?”

  Mark paused. “Not this transmission, but I did the night after he joined us. I gave them his full name and some background as to why he was with us.”

  Jaques was looking worried.

  “Don’t worry about it Jaques. I’m sure they want to see if you know anything that can help track down the people that killed your parents. You are amongst friends now. We won’t let you down.”

  Mark hoped he could keep his promise. The other men backed him up.

  “That’s right Jaques. You will like where we are going, but you will be part of the war effort. It can’t be helped.” Menard was stroking Jaques’s hair.

  “I understand. I can fight.”

  There was no doubt in any of the squad’s minds as to who was the bravest member of their team.

  * * *

  Sara was still in her office when Heinrich Largos knocked again.

  “Sara, something else has come up and I wonder if you could help me.”

  “Certainly Sir.” She quickly locked up her documents, shutdown her workstation and accompanied Largos back to his office. Once the door was closed Largos began his explanation.

  “We have an unusual situation on our hands tonight. One of the squads on a training mission in the north stumbled on a band of soldiers torturing a family in a remote location in the mountains. Much to their credit these trainees managed to kill all of the soldiers. Unfortunately, they were too late to save the parents and one child. The other child, a boy of about 11 years, managed to escape. Again to their credit the squad took the child under their wing and brought him south. The boy will be here this evening.”

  Sara was following Largos, but did not understand why she was being told all of this.

  “We checked up on the name of the child and that of his father. It turns out that both of his parents were microbiologists. Prior to the war they were involved in the large-scale production of various medicines, using bacteria to do the synthesis. We have reason to believe that they were drafted into the Northern Coalition’s weapons program shortly after the Coalition took over power.”

  Sara spoke up. “You are concerned that they were involved with the production of biological weapons?”

  “Exactly. It is extremely unfortunate that the parents were killed, but the boy may have picked up a significant amount of information just in overhearing his parents. At the very least we can find out how they managed to escape into the mountains. That is why I need your assistance.”

  “Why me Sir?”

  “Three reasons. One is that I already had to boost your security clearance to level 3 classified because of the criticality of your decryption work. Two is that you speak French. They boy is of French decent, and may be more comfortable in that language. Three is that I think you have the interpersonal skills to be effective with a child who is no-doubt traumatized from the experience of losing his entire family, travelling to a foreign land, speaking a different language, and so on.”

  “I’ll do my best sir. The decryption work is all set up. I can check on it now and again to see when we get a match. It’s likely to be days, so there is no reason to sit in my office watching the screen.”

  “Excellent Sara. I’m not diminishing the criticality of your decryption work in any way. I just need you in two places at once right now.”

  “Fine. Where will I meet the boy?”

  “He and the squad are being conducted here on horseback. I don’t expect them to 22:00 hours. They may be too exhausted to work with us tonight. We’ll see how they are. If they need rest, we’ll start the discussions tomorrow morning.”

  Sara thought about the situation, and tried to put herself in the boy’s position. The poor kid had lost his parents and linked up with one of their squads. He would feel deeply indebted to the squad members if they had indeed protected him.

  “I’m guessing that the boy may be attached to one or more of the men in the squad. Is there any chance we can house them both here for a few days?”

  “I have the whole squad plus the boy set up for at least one night. We can decide what the right combination of players is tomorrow. These are pretty stark surroundings for a child, so I hope we can set up something more normal soon.”

  Sara already had and idea where a comfortable location for an eleven-year-old boy might be, but she kept it to herself for now.

  * * *

  “You boys ready for some hot food and a hot shower?” The first officer on horseback had just made it to the ridge where the squad was resting. Hirotomi had kept his machine-gun trained on them from the side of the trail for the last 100 yards, to make sure they were friendlies. Several of the horses darted a step when Hirotomi walked out into the moonlight.

  “You’re damned right about that Sir. Foxtrot Squad reporting Sir.” Mark saluted and walked over to the officer who had just dismounted. “Mighty nice of you to give us a ride home Sir.”

  “Well it may not all be good news. My orders are to get you back to Section 12 as quickly as possible, including your youngest squad member.”

  “Section 12. Isn’t that spook central?”
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  “Right you are. You boys may get better cooking than you were expecting, but they probably want to chat a long while. A long, long while.”

  “As long as they have a shower and hot food, I’ll talk forever.”

  Mark organized his squad. They had enough free horses to use two to carry the men’s packs, and the other five to carry the squad members plus Jaques. The stirrups had to be raised a bit for Jaques, but he was obviously comfortable mounted.

  “Foxtrot Squad ready when you are Sir!”

  The dim light kept their pace slower than anyone would have liked. They did not make it to Camp Williams until 22:45, and it took another 15 minutes to get to Section 12. Their escorts took the horses and equipment, promising to return their packs and weapons to the stations in camp. Section 12’s guards took over from the double-gate forward and escorted the squad into the main building.

  Heinrich Largos, Sara, and two other staff members were there to greet them. Largos gave the welcome speech.

  “Gentlemen, welcome to Section 12. I’m sorry to surprise you with this temporary destination, but we will do our best to be hospitable during your short stay. I’m sure that you are hungry and in need of a shower and some sleep. Our kitchen staff has prepared a meal for you, and we have showers and sleeping quarters all set up. If you would be so good as to follow me to the mess hall, we can get started with the meal.”

  Mark Kauf thought of a number of questions he might to ask, but he was just too tired. If the fat man promised to feed them, bathe them, and let them sleep, then that was all the answers Mark needed.

  * * *

  The men had been far too tired to talk that night, and had barely touched their food. The most alert of the group seemed to be the boy, Jaques. Sara made a point to sit next to him, escort him to his room, and make sure he had everything he needed. It was after 01:00 when the five were bathed and bedded. The boy had asked to sleep in the same room as one of the privates, Menard. Two cots were squeezed in to make this possible. Guards were posted at both ends of the hallway containing the squad members. It was very unlikely that they were in any immediate danger, but Largos was not taking any chances.