White Knights

by Julie Moffett

  Not that I cared one single iota.

  My nights were spent looking through X-Corp’s cybersecurity analysis of BioLimbs as well as the BioLimbs site itself. I exhaustively reviewed the notes and screen shots I’d taken when Lexi and I investigated the company server and logs. A little after midnight on Saturday, I came across something I hadn’t seen before in BioLimbs’ app installation software. I checked and rechecked, but I didn’t like what I saw. I needed a second opinion. I would have asked Lexi, but I wasn’t supposed to be in the system on my own, so instead, I shot a text to Wally asking him to call me when he woke up.

  I finally fell into bed about five o’clock. Before I fell asleep, it occurred to me I hadn’t corresponded with any of my online gaming friends in ages. No one had messaged me, asking where I’d gone or why I hadn’t played for a while. I’d never gone this long without gaming or needing to check in with my online friends.

  My mom, not knowing of my late night, woke me up at nine before she left to go to work for a few hours. A quick check indicated neither Wally not Frankie had tried to call, text, or email me yet. They had probably both gotten a decent amount of sleep. I dragged my butt out of bed and was eating cereal bleary-eyed when the doorbell rang.

  Mr. Toodles went nuts barking. I looked through the peephole. Colt stood there, dressed in his varsity letter jacket.

  Crap.

  I turned around and backed up against the door. My exhaustion vanished. What was he doing here?

  He rang the bell again. “Open the door, Angel. I know you’re in there. Your mom just left for work. She told me you were inside.”

  “Go away.”

  “Please. I want to talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk. I’m in my pajamas.”

  “Get dressed or get a robe. I’ll wait.”

  “I told you, I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Then I’ll bang on your door until I wake up all the neighbors. Seeing as how it is Saturday morning, I’m sure that won’t make them happy. Look, I’m asking for a few minutes of your time. Please.”

  I peeked through the door again. Colt had a look of determination on his face. He wasn’t going anywhere. I could ignore him, but there was a strong possibility he would follow through and bang, if not wait out there until my mom came home. Then she’d make me invite him in and probably listen to the entire conversation.

  Ugh.

  “Fine. You’ll have two minutes.”

  “I’ll make it work.”

  I ran back to my room, pulled on a T-shirt and jeans, and ran a brush through my rat’s nest hair. There wasn’t anything I could do about the dark circles under my eyes. Sighing, I left my feet bare.

  When I returned to the door and peered out the peephole, Colt was still there, patiently waiting. Inhaling a deep breath, I pulled open the door.

  He quickly stepped inside, like he was afraid I might change my mind. I might have, so it was a good move.

  “Thanks for hearing me out, Angel.”

  I closed the door and stood in the entranceway, crossing my arms against my chest. I wasn’t going to invite him in any farther.

  “What do you want?”

  “To apologize. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the melee.”

  “You couldn’t text me to let me know?”

  “I was…busy.”

  “So busy you couldn’t find five seconds to text or call? For two days?”

  “It’s taken me that long to work up the courage to come here.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a pained expression on his face. “I wanted to tell you in person. I shouldn’t have agreed to participate in the first place.”

  “I’m not going to argue with that. But the night of the event, after having made a commitment, is not the time to come to this realization.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” His expression was miserable. “I wanted to help you because I like Mr. Matthews. I like you, too. But then you said there were going to be television cameras and…I couldn’t do it.”

  “Why should that matter?”

  “It shouldn’t, but it does. I’m apologizing, Angel.”

  I looked at him incredulously. “That’s it? I’m sorry? No explanation? After I was humiliated in front of the entire school.”

  “I didn’t know you’d fill in for me.” He looked at his shoes. “You think I’m a jerk, right?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Well, I guess that’s better than knowing the truth. Look, I’ve got to go. I wanted you to know I feel terrible about this. I wish this hadn’t happened.”

  “I wish so, too.”

  He opened the door and exited, leaving me confused, embarrassed, and mystified. He came over to apologize but refused to explain his behavior?

  Jerk, first-class.

  I narrowed my eyes. He might have made a fool out of me, but he’d also made me curious. Big mistake.

  Time to do what I always did when I wanted answers. I went to my computer.

  It took me less than two hours to discover most all there was to know about Colt McCarrell.

  A surprisingly easy hack into the records of St. Michael’s Catholic High School in nearby Adelphi, Maryland—his school before abruptly transferring to Excalibur—indicated Colt had been a straight-A student, quarterback on the varsity team with the school record for most touchdown passes (even though he was just a sophomore!), and the recipient of St. Michael’s Catholic High School’s most prestigious citizenship award, the Golden Leaf.

  The school’s freaking golden boy.

  So why had his parents yanked him out of that school and enrolled him at Excalibur Academy when he was doing so well at St. Michael’s? And why had Colt said Mr. Matthews had been instrumental in getting him into Excalibur? With an academic and personal achievement record like his, why would getting into another private school be a problem?

  The answers I needed were not evident in his school records at St. Michael’s. Other than a departure date noted in the records of October 16 and a transfer of his school records to Excalibur on the eighteenth, I had no other information to go on. Which meant there was something else, somewhere else, that caused him to leave the school.

  I did a quick check on the website. The principal at St. Michael’s was Sister Mary Jean O’Connell. I’d never hacked a nun before, and I admit I felt nervous—not to mention guilty—about it. While I didn’t believe in holy thunderbolts and all, the possibility still made the back of my neck itch.

  It didn’t take me long to get into her email. I started a week before October 16 and skimmed through the subject lines. I came to a screeching halt on October 14 at an email with the subject “Colt McCarrell.”

  I read that email in its entirety, and then the two follow-up emails. After reading them all, I sat back in my chair, my hand on my head in disbelief.

  “Holy crap,” I murmured. “So that’s why you didn’t show, Colt.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  ANGEL SINCLAIR

  While I was hacking into Colt’s old school, Frankie had texted me asking what was up. I quickly texted her back.

  Can you meet me at the library in an hour and a half?

  I’ve got to go shopping with my mom, but I’ll have her drop me off when we’re done.

  Perfect. See you then.

  Wally texted a few minutes after that, and I asked him the same thing. He said he was free—his social calendar was never filled. Ha. He’d meet me at the library.

  After my mom got home from work and changed, she drove me to the library after I told her I was meeting Wally and Frankie there.

  “I think it is so nice that you are getting out more and spending time with your friends, even if it is in the library,” she said. “I’m proud of you for working so hard.” She beamed with happiness. I felt guilty since the real reason for going was to hack, not hang out with my friends.

  I smiled half-heartedly. “Yeah, Mom, it’s great.”

  When she dropped me off, I promised to call her if
I needed a ride home. Thankfully, the library was mostly empty, so I snagged a private study room and set up my laptop before Wally walked in.

  “Well, it’s official. You’re now viral. In case you didn’t know, Susie Manover—Mary Herman’s BFF—posted a video of you getting splatted in your Hello Kitty bra on YouTube. As of last check, it had six thousand and two hits.”

  “What?” I stared at him in horror. “Six thousand hits of me in a Hello Kitty bra? Are you kidding?”

  “I wish.” Wally scowled. “I’m sorry for your humiliation. Mary and Susie are such losers. Look, I’m totally in for helping you hack into YouTube and bringing those videos down. I thought that’s why you wanted me here today.”

  “No, it isn’t, but thanks, Wally.” His offer made me feel better. “They’d only put them right back up, and we’ve got more important things to worry about. But I appreciate you having my back.”

  “Any time.” He pulled his laptop out of his backpack and began setting it up. “Ever hear from Colt?”

  “Yes.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “But I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

  “Sure. I hope he had a good excuse.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “Figured as much. So, if we aren’t hacking YouTube or devising a scheme to ruin Mary’s and Susie’s lives, what are we doing here?”

  “Hacking, but with a different target.” I flexed my fingers. “I want to show you something. Malicious code. You interested?”

  “Oh, baby, you had me at malicious.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Listen carefully. I’m tired and I don’t want to make a mistake. Remember how Mr. Kars told us that BioLimbs had designed the prostheses to accept software and firmware updates to allow for bug fixes and version upgrades?”

  “Yes, but Mr. Kars and Lexi both said the software and hardware were clean. They’ve both been over it ad nauseam.”

  “Right. But what about the app?”

  “What about it? Lexi said she’d checked it and it was clean, too.”

  “Yes, she checked the app and the installer. Both were clean…the times she checked it. Lexi and I were working inside BioLimbs when I was at X-Corp, so I know how to get in their system. Last night when I checked it, the installer had something there that wasn’t there before.”

  “On the installer?” When I nodded, he thought for a moment. “That would certainly be an excellent place to hide malicious code. Not that I’ve ever hidden malicious code, mind you. Well, not often. Not that I’m admitting anything.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seeing as how I’ve never worked with actual malicious code before, I’d like a second opinion.”

  “Of course. Are we safe here examining it at the library using public Wi-Fi?”

  “Not really. But it’s the safest we’ve got, and by that, I mean that it’ll be hard for anyone to trace this to us. Naturally, I’ll take precautions. Give me a few minutes to set up, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Wally played around on his laptop until I was ready. When I felt like I’d taken enough security measures, I slipped inside the BioLimbs system.

  “Wally, come look,” I said. I tapped on my screen. “Here.”

  He studied the code for a long moment. “Okay, I see nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Exactly.” I opened another window and pulled up a screenshot of the same code I’d taken last night. “Now, look at this.”

  “Whoa.” He stared at my monitor, stunned. “What is in that string of code right there?”

  “Good question. Someone wiped it clean this morning.”

  Wally grabbed a notebook and began scribbling the code down. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m not sure whether to be appalled or turned on.”

  “What’s important here is that I don’t think it’s disrupting the signal between the program and the limb. It’s…doing something else.”

  “Agreed. But what?”

  “I know you’re going to think I’m nuts, but I think it’s instructions to the brain. I know we talked about this possibility earlier, but I’m leaning toward this not being science fiction, but a new reality.”

  “What?” Wally’s face was ashen in disbelief. “No way.”

  “Way,” I insisted. “Look at it, Wally. It’s some kind of instruction.”

  “Okay, I concede, it’s instructions. But to the brain? That’s not yet possible. You can’t hijack someone’s brain with code. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Says who? Don’t you remember our lesson in Red Teaming on artificial intelligence?”

  “That was a theoretical discussion in school. This is real life. We can’t hack organic yet. You know that. We’re not there in terms of technology.”

  “Says who? We’re just kids in high school. We don’t know every advance being made in the field of artificial intelligence. Especially not those being made in secret. It’s not that out there, Wally. You know I’m right.”

  “What I know is this kind of thing is way beyond us. We’re talking superadvanced. Where are the trials, experiments, papers, ethical discussions, and so on? I’ve never read anything that leads me to believe we are this far along, except for a few theoretical cases, developed mostly by Monteray and Haider. Do you think we’re at the point we can hijack a brain and instruct a person to do things against their will?”

  “That’s exactly what I think. If someone is hurting people with this technology, we can be assured it hasn’t been vetted ethically or medically. And it’s not targeting any people, Wally. These are veterans. American veterans. All eight of the people who had accidents wore BioLimbs prostheses and served in the US military in Iraq. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. Besides, BioLimbs works with all kinds of people, not just veterans, so whoever is hacking these devices is specifically targeting US servicemen and -women.”

  Wally sighed and studied the code some more. “That’s an incredibly frightening thought.”

  “I agree, but I’m not making this up. The code speaks for itself.”

  Wally bent over my laptop, blew out a breath. “Who would do something sick like this?”

  I leaned back in my chair. “I don’t know. But we’ve got to tell Mr. Kars what we’ve found. They need to recall those prostheses right away.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  ANGEL SINCLAIR

  Frankie arrived just as I left a message for Vincent Kars on his personal cell phone. I hoped he didn’t ask how I’d obtained his number. I left a message asking him to call me, adding it was urgent.

  While we waited for him to call back, we updated Frankie on the developments. She leaned back in her chair, listening quietly. Today she wore a red-and-black-checked flannel shirt with dark leggings, ankle boots, and two braids wound with red yarn. She looked like a cross between a lumberjack and a cat toy.

  “Okay, you guys have to slow down. I barely understood any of that.” Frankie made a swooping motion with her hand. “As far as I understand it, someone with an ax to grind with the US military is hacking the brains of veterans who have prostheses made by BioLimbs. Right?”

  “Right,” I said. “Whoever is doing this has not only mad cracking skills, but an expertise with AI and/or biotechnology. This isn’t the work of a simple hacker. There aren’t many people in the world who could pull this kind of thing off.”

  “Agreed,” Wally said. “Which should narrow our field of suspects. What do we know about the malicious code itself so far?”

  “Well, the veterans use the updating app and, thereby, the installation program, when they are instructed to do so by someone at BioLimbs. Each person’s prostheses are unique. So, if the cracker wanted to target someone specific, he or she would wait until the person received instructions to install the upgrade before planting the code.”

  “He’s wiping the code after each installation to hide the evidence,” Wally mused.

  “Yeah. No evidence left behind. But that’s where he plants it. We have to wait for him to set up another attack, then we
stop it.”

  “How does he know when each veteran is instructed to update the software?” Frankie asked.

  “He has to be monitoring the targets somehow,” Wally said. “Spying or tapping their phones. Or maybe he planted a listening device in their cars or houses. All of which means this is premeditated and carefully planned.”

  “It wouldn’t be that hard.” I considered the possibilities. “It would also explain how only those servicemen and -women who served in Iraq and have prostheses made by BioLimbs are being targeted. BioLimbs serves dozens of veterans, but only those who served in Iraq during a specific time span have been the victims of these accidents. That is not a coincidence. It’s significant, but I don’t know why.”

  The sound of my cell ringing startled me. I grabbed it out of my pocket and looked at the caller.

  “It’s Mr. Kars,” I said to Wally before punching the Accept button. “Hello, Mr. Kars?”

  “Ms. Sinclair?”

  “Yes, it’s me. Thank you for calling back. I’ve got some important information to tell you about…well, you know, the problem.”

  “I’m going to stop you right there. There is no problem. I don’t want you to call me again. I believe you are a very intelligent but misguided young woman. BioLimbs is handling this matter internally.”

  “What? But we found—”

  “There is no problem. I do not wish to hear from you again. We are no longer working with X-Corp. Our connection is hereby terminated.” He hung up.

  I stared at the phone is disbelief. “I can’t believe it. He hung up on me. He didn’t even let me explain. He says they are no longer working with X-Corp.”

  “What?” Frankie gasped.

  “If he had given me three minutes of his time, I could have told him exactly where the malicious code is located.” My thoughts spun in disbelief.