She waits, her pulse racing, an excited giggle rising in her chest. And all hell breaks loose in her UI.
Panels pop into existence, fill with indecipherable text, then vanish. Menus and lists of commands fly in from the edges of her field of view, then flicker and fade. Warning messages, picked out in bright red letters, flash up, one after another, changing so swiftly she can make no sense of any of them. A raucous alarm wails and whines in her earpiece, its tone rising and falling rapidly, and the sound drills into her skull.
Sanjay scrambles up to her feet. Alarm off! she thinks. Mute all alarms! And the sound cuts off, leaving her ears ringing.
“Oh my God!” Sanjay moans. “Goddamned piece of crap!” Her UI is still out of control, brightly lit notifications flashing past in a dazzling display of jumbled data, and she screws up her eyes in concentration. She has to gather her scattered thoughts and find the right commands to reset her UI. But first, she must deal with the root cause of the problem. And that can mean only one thing.
Deactivate AGILE, she thinks. And immediately her UI changes. Every panel, every menu, every status indicator—they all vanish. Only one message remains. Displayed in simple black letters, the words send a jolt of pure fear to writhe in the pit of Sanjay’s stomach:
ACCESS DENIED - YOUR AVATAR HAS BEEN LOCKED
The message flashes three times then disappears, only to be replaced by a series of scrolling notifications:
AGILE HAS CONTROL
AVATAR OVERRIDE IN PROGRESS
INVENTORY UPDATED
NEW MISSION DOWNLOADED
MISSION OBJECTIVE - TERMINATE SCARLETT
CHAPTER 41
STEWART HOLDS UP HIS HAND for calm and the discontented commotion dies down rapidly. “Wait a second. Let me see what the problem is.” He puts on his own headset, but when he pulls up the scenario, an error message plasters itself across his UI:
PERMISSION DENIED
MALWARE DETECTED - SYSTEM QUARANTINE IN OPERATION
What’s this? A glitch? A flash of irritation flares across his mind, but Stewart keeps his expression neutral. Mustn’t let the students see me riled. He removes his headset and puts it into his pocket before standing up. “Listen, everyone, I’m sorry about this, but it looks like there’s a small technical problem and I’ll have to deal with it before we can begin. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, so if you’ll just—”
But his calm assurances are cut off by a shout from the back of the room, and one of the students, Seb, stands up, his cheeks flushed. “Sir! It’s Hank! He’s not moving. I think he’s logged in. He can’t hear me. What do we do?”
Stewart presses his lips together, and the image of young Marcus blazes across his mind; the poor young man imprisoned by his headset, his skin pale, his lips blue from the cold, his body limp and helpless.
Another student logged in when he shouldn’t be, Stewart thinks. This can’t be a coincidence. And a shard of suspicion twists in the pit of his stomach. This is no random error, no ordinary malware attack. Someone is deliberately targeting the students, using the scenarios to carry out some sick type of virtual abduction. And it’s happening right under his nose. But how is that possible? With Eileen out of the picture, how on earth could anyone break through the Trust’s defenses and get to Hank?
“All right, everyone, stay calm,” Stewart calls out. “I’ll have this sorted out in no time at all.” He keeps his posture erect, his expression composed, but his mind races. Why is Hank the only one affected? It must be something to do with that damned headset Angela gave him—it marked him out, made him easy to find. But perhaps he’s jumping to conclusions. If there really is malware in the system, the new headset could have handled Hank’s integration more quickly, squeezing him into the scenario just before the lockdown. Or it could be that the headset’s superior connection could bypass the lockdown entirely. Either way, I should never have let Angela give him that gear! I should’ve stopped her. But what could he have done? The instruction came from above; the new gear was a reward, in recognition of Hank’s help with the last Grimwood fiasco. But now this! Hank, logged in and alone, trapped in the system and unaware of the danger. How could this happen? And why would anyone target Hank? Could Grimwood be seeking revenge?
Stewart shakes his head, pushing his doubts and questions aside. What’s wanted here is action. “OK, everyone, please put your headsets away and gather up your belongings. Quickly now.” Stewart forces himself to stand still, to wait; there’s no point in stirring up panic, and he can use this moment to think, to plan.
It’s time to end this thing once and for all. The first priority is to log Hank off quickly and safely, before anyone can get their clutches on him. But if there really is malware in the system, he needs to destroy it before it can infect Hank’s neural interface. I need the highest level of direct access to the code that I can lay my hands on, and I need it fast. And there’s only one place that can give him everything he wants.
Stewart manages an assured smile. “Right, let’s turn this situation around. Seb, I want you to stay there and keep an eye on Hank—I’ll send someone to join you. Everyone else, I want you to follow me back to the lobby. But please remain calm. There’s nothing for you to worry about. We have systems in place to take care of this sort of thing. And I’m sure Hank will be fine. Follow me.”
He heads for the door, with a gaggle of students trailing along in his wake, and when he glances back, the sight of Hank sitting immobile makes his heart hang heavy. Stay sharp, Hank, he thinks. I’m coming to get you.
Stewart hurries along the corridor, and when he nears the reception desk, Mark Osborne stands up, a puzzled frown on his face. “Stewart, is there a problem?”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Stewart says, “but I do have a couple of jobs for you. First, I’d like you to find any available member of staff and ask them to cover for me as soon as possible. Tell them they need to come over here right away. And I want you to find someone to go into room twenty and sit with Seb and Hank, just to keep an eye on them. There’s a technical problem I need to go and fix. It should all be fine, but if there are any problems call Angela immediately.”
“Got it,” Mark says. “Should the person for room twenty be a member of staff as well?”
Stewart shakes his head. “No, that won’t be necessary. Call a duty receptionist. Anyone on the roster. All right?”
Mark picks up a phone. “Leave it with me, Stewart. You go and do what you need to do.”
Stewart gives him a grateful smile, then he faces the students. “I’m going to leave you in Mark’s capable hands for a minute, and then someone will come over and make sure you’re usefully occupied. Please don’t wander off. Someone will be with you shortly.”
“Excuse me.”
Stewart looks around. A young woman with short, dark hair steps forward. “What about Hank?” she asks. “Will he be OK?”
“Yes,” Stewart says, keeping his voice level. “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Georgie.”
“He’ll be fine, Georgie. Don’t worry.”
“I could stay with Seb and Hank,” Georgie says. “In case they need any help.”
Stewart hesitates. “That’s kind of you, Georgie, but we need everyone to carry on with their day as usual. Everything is under control.”
Georgie frowns. “What are you going to do? How can you get Hank out?”
“I haven’t got time to stand here and explain it now. I need to go and help your friend. All you need to do is keep calm and let me get on with it.”
“I am calm,” Georgie says, and there’s an edge of anger in her voice that’s making the other students take notice. There are murmurs in the group, and several students are staring defiantly at Stewart, clearly on Georgie’s side. “I just want to help,” she goes on. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Stewart insists, but he can see the determination in Georgie’s eyes. She’s no
t going to be satisfied with any explanation he gives, but he doesn’t have time for this. He gives Georgie a hard stare, but she matches his gaze, utterly determined.
Stewart lowers his voice to a conspiratorial murmur. “Listen, Georgie, the best way for you to help is to stay here and keep an eye on the other students for me. Some of them are getting a bit jumpy, but if you can talk to them and calm them down, they’ll be all right. Can you do that?”
Georgie hesitates. “OK. I guess you’re right. I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you,” Stewart says. “And don’t worry about Hank—I’ll get him out safely. Everything will all be fine, all right?”
Georgie sighs. “I guess.”
“Good.” Stewart gives Georgie a reassuring smile, then he heads across the lobby and barges through the glass doors. Alone in the corridor, he finds his phone and thumbs the screen, pulling up his contacts and calling Angela. She answers almost immediately: “Stewart, how’s Marcus?”
“The last I heard he was doing well. But that’s not what I’m calling about. We’ve got another situation.”
“What’s happened? Another breach?”
“No. At least, I’m not sure. There might have been an attempt. The jungle scenario locked itself down, and somehow, one of the new students managed to log in.”
There’s a pause before Angela replies. “It’s Hank, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But don’t worry Angela—I’ll take care of it. I’ll get him out, and I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“How? Eileen was heading up the jungle scenario—she knew the system better than anyone—but without her expertise, you’ll be in the dark, Stewart.”
“So what should we do? Leave Hank logged in even though the scenario could be compromised? Rip his headset off and to hell with the consequences?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Angela snaps. “I’m trying to see the best way forward. It might be wise to get someone from Agrippine on board. We need technical help on this one.”
“Go ahead and call Agrippine if you want, Angela. Pull strings. I’ll take all the help I can get. But I won’t stand by and wait.”
“Stewart, where are you? What are you planning to do?”
“I’m not going to tell you. You’ll only try and stop me. But it’s too late for that, Angela. Hank’s in danger and I’m going to do something about it.”
“No, Stewart—” Angela begins, but Stewart ends the call and pockets his phone, then he makes for the stairwell.
The stairway that rises in front of Stewart is wide, its steps faced with polished granite, but Stewart takes the less luxurious flight of stainless steel stairs that leads downward, and he rushes downward as fast as he can, his heavy footsteps reverberating in the empty stairwell.
At the bottom, Stewart barges through a heavy glass door and into a tiled corridor, then without pausing, he jogs along until he finds the room he needs. He stops outside a wooden door and lets himself in, then he closes the door firmly behind him.
Eileen’s cybersecurity lab is just as he last saw it, and he wastes no time in going to the headset storage unit: a glass-fronted cabinet mounted on the wall. The headsets inside are arranged in neat rows, and while they aren’t the advanced models Eileen showed him, they’re military grade hardware and they’ll do the job just fine. He opens the cabinet and takes a set at random, slipping them on and making sure they work. Then he closes the cabinet and heads for the steel-reinforced door at the back of the lab.
Stewart enters the war room slowly. The place is swathed in shadows, and the dark shapes of the hulking VR chairs, laid out in silent rows, brood like forgotten tombs. He pauses and scans the room, half expecting Eileen to emerge from the darkest corner. But no. That’s a fanciful idea. Eileen must be long gone, and good riddance to her. But perhaps she inadvertently did me a favor, Stewart thinks. If she hadn’t reacquainted me with the war room, I might not have come up with this plan.
Stewart steps up to the control panel and its screen springs into life. He looks through the options on the display, then he touches the screen, his fingers darting across its surface as he selects the battlefield and activates the chairs.
The panels on the VR chairs glow softly, and a whisper of doubt surfaces in the back of Stewart’s mind. No one knows he’s here. No one knows what he plans to do. And if anything goes wrong, there’s no one to come to his rescue. Think! he tells himself. Cover all the bases.
He grabs his phone and opens up the voice recorder, then he speaks quickly: “Angela, I’m in Eileen’s lab. I’m going to log into the virtual battlefield and see if there really is malware in the system. If there is, and I can halt the attack, the jungle combat scenario should come out of lockdown automatically, allowing Hank to log off. If it turns out that the malware is a smoke screen, I’ll find another way to release the lockdown. But you must give me time to follow this through. Do not, repeat, do not try to log me off with an emergency termination—that could be disastrous for me. Just let me do my job.” He hesitates. “Give me at least two hours. If I’m not out by then, hand the problem over to Agrippine and see what they can do. End of message.”
Stewart saves the file and sends it to Angela’s number, then he leaves his phone on the control panel and walks over to the VR chairs, taking a seat and setting up his chair just as before when Eileen sat at his side. He logs on, but this time, there’s no harmless simulation waiting for him. This time, the battlefield will be live.
***
When the virtual battlefield materializes, Stewart checks his phase rifle and the status indicators in his UI. All systems are optimal, so he stands and turns around slowly, scanning the grid. The dizzying matrix of interlinked lines stretches out in all directions, lighting the darkness with a faint, eerie glow. And the bright nodes pulse and shimmer at each intersection.
“Where are you?” he whispers. The system isn’t presenting any malware that needs his intervention, but that doesn’t mean there’s no attack in progress. Grimwood could probably find a way hide his attack, he thinks. The breach could be too subtle for the battlefield to visualize. He shakes his head. There must be some clue out there somewhere; it’s just a matter of tracking it down and isolating it.
He takes a step forward. “Come on, damn you! Show me something I can shoot.”
He runs through the threat detection modes in his UI, but still, the battlefield shows him no bots, no malware, no breach of any kind, and a slow, sinking sensation settles in Stewart’s stomach. There’s something wrong here, something sinister. He’s been duped, pushed to this point by a string of suspicious coincidences stretching back to his meeting with Brunner; the first time that he learned of the attempt to breach MENT0R. Yes—it’s all connected.
Brunner suggested the original attack was an inside job, and everyone agreed because they were all so sure that the core AI was a completely isolated system, with no links to any external interfaces. But what if MENT0R wasn’t isolated? What if someone on the staff had deliberately created an underlying vulnerability in MENT0R’s defenses?
It’s the oldest trick in the book: the traitor who leaves the gate unlocked, the disloyal guard who lowers the drawbridge in the dead of night. He can see no attack on the battlefield because there is no attack. Instead, there’s an intrusion, a physical breach in the Trust’s network. It hardly bears thinking about, but Stewart has to admit what’s happened. He has to say it out loud, “Someone’s bridged the two systems.” And the blood drains from his face. If there’s a live connection between the jungle combat scenario and MENT0R, the Trust’s prized AI system will be wide open to anyone with the right knowledge. The technology behind MENT0R is one of Agrippine’s most closely guarded secrets, and any government on the planet would be willing to pay a fortune for a glimpse of its code.
“Oh my God!” Stewart whispers. This attack is so much bigger than a student trapped in a scenario; it’s an attempt to bring Agrippine to its knees while destroying the Downlode Trust into the bargain.
And if MENT0R falls into the wrong hands, there’s no end to the havoc that could follow.
“This stops here,” Stewart growls. “This stops now.” And he concentrates on his UI. Begin trace, he thinks. Select MENT0R nodes only.
Immediately, the grid lines and most of the pulsing connections grow dim, but a dazzling array of nodes are highlighted, picked out in a glare of bright green light.
Overlay nodes for VR scenarios.
His UI illuminates the new nodes in orange, but whichever way he turns, he can’t see any sign of a connection between the two sets of information; there are just too many nodes and he can’t detect any meaningful pattern.
“You’re going about this all wrong,” he murmurs.
Reset trace. Select only nodes used for VR scenarios.
His UI complies, and Stewart concentrates on a new command: Exclude all nodes not in MENT0R grid.
Instantly, the bright color vanishes from the excluded nodes, and the inky darkness rushes in on Stewart from all directions. Disoriented, he takes half a step back, and by instinct, he raises his rifle, ready to defend himself. And that’s when he sees it.
A single bright node flickers rapidly, its light wavering so quickly it’s almost constant. Stewart double-checks his UI. The node definitely belongs to the MENT0R system. And there, beside it, is a smaller node: a part of the VR scenario system. And the two are fused, joined together into one flickering blur of energy. Holy shit! I was right.
But before he can even record the compromised node’s position, a woman’s voice rings out in the emptiness:
“You found it.”
Stewart spins around. He’s not alone.
CHAPTER 42
SANJAY STARES AT THE MESSAGE in her UI, narrowing her eyes, reading the damned thing over and over again:
TERMINATE SCARLETT
The Trust (The Downlode Heroes Book 2) Page 31