by Scott Bly
* * *
Charlie hit the CHAT button repeatedly. No response.
The entire building had gone dark. Video down, chat down, lights out … What had Geneva done?
Slowly lights flickered on throughout the building.
“OK,” Geneva’s voice finally crackled. “I’m in.”
“With the computers?”
“Right. But very vulnerable.”
“What happened?”
“Can’t talk. Let me know if any cars show up outside — we don’t want visitors. Have the video camera ready. Remember, no news is good news.”
Charlie was on his own.
Blink. The security screens came up, and he watched for trouble. Nothing.
Meanwhile, thousands of security spiders deployed. Less than a half inch across, on Charlie’s screens, they were invisible. He had no idea they were there.
* * *
Geneva had seen some powerful computers. She herself was an amazing system. But looking at Foxx’s supercomputer was awe inspiring. She used one of her arms as an inductor to read the magnetic field surrounding the tall black cabinets. The amount of electricity used was off the charts.
She had to get into it. Username and password. What could they be? The cursor blinked at her. Enter the right code, and you’re in, little robot girl, it taunted. Enter the wrong code, and a squad of giant gorillas will eat you.
She still had Foxx’s security card, username, and password. His password would almost certainly have been changed. But there was always a chance.
She swiped the card. The cursor blinked ominously.
USERNAME: _
GramFoxx, she carefully typed in.
PASSWORD: _
The machine blinked again.
She took a deep breath and entered Foxx’s password. Once it was Foxx Supreme, but now he spelled it F0xx_$upr3m3. Geneva hit ENTER.
INCORRECT USERNAME/PASSWORD. TRY AGAIN.
She wouldn’t get many tries before the system locked her out. Usually five.
Security types tended to change passwords instead of usernames, so she thought long and hard about her next move.
Gr@m3rcy_$upr3m3.
INCORRECT USERNAME/PASSWORD. ONE ATTEMPT LEFT BEFORE LOCKOUT.
She cursed under her breath. Only three tries — security was that tight.
If she could rule out a few letters, she’d have a better chance at guessing the password. She tested the springiness of each key with her sensitive fingers. The less springy, the more times that key had been pressed.
She also examined the letters on each key. The more worn, the more times the letter had been used. Foxx tended to do most of his programming using voice commands, so the keyboard was used most often for passwords.
She calculated the results. The only letter that didn’t fit the old password was L. Foxx had changed something — a word or code that used the L key multiple times.
What could it be? People usually choose passwords based on things they can easily remember — a pet’s name, or a birthday, or a street.
It would probably be a short word, or other letters would have shown more wear. Holly, hall, well, sell, loll, lol, cell, call …
Call. Why did that sound familiar?
The night Foxx had taken over the virus writer’s mind, the guy said his master’s name was … Callis. Right! It was worth a try.
USERNAME: _
She typed GramFoxx. Slowly. No mistakes. This was her last chance.
PASSWORD: _
She held her breath. Then she carefully typed in:
C@ll!$_$upr3m3.
The cursor continued blinking. Her heart raced. Any second a squad of security goons could burst in and grab her.
The screen flared to life, and line upon line of code ripped down the screen.
“Welcome, Mr. Foxx,” said a silky voice. “Shall we continue?”
Geneva couldn’t believe her eyes. She did her best Gramercy Foxx impression: “Yes.” The Future. This was it.
More code spilled by. She jacked into a dataport and hit ESCAPE. The flow stopped, and Geneva began typing. She started with “Help.” I need to know what kind of system this is, she thought. Pages of help scrolled across. She was ready. Then she began typing commands as fast as the computer could handle them.
* * *
Charlie paced. No news is good news. That didn’t help. On the video screens, armed security guards were quickly assembling in the basement. This could be bad.
Movement on the ground caught his eye. Vehicles were screeching into the TerraThinc parking structure.
“Geneva, we have a problem!”
McCallum watched the data feed. Information from ten thousand bots had come in from all five types — motion, audio, EMF, heat, and the fifth, which Foxx himself had designed. The spider-bots had covered the entire building, except for the most secure areas. Even micro-robots couldn’t squeeze through security doors. But they gathered enough information through the walls to paint a picture.
The building was secure. The high-security areas showed nothing unusual. In Foxx’s computer room, electronic activity and infrared hot spots were normal.
There had been no attack. A catastrophic security system error had crippled the building. Someone knocked on his door. It was Physical Security and one of the guard-techs. The worker sneezed. McCallum instinctively backed away.
“Sir, Steinikov has something to report — an anomaly just before the outage.”
“And?”
“Well, sir,” Steinikov began nervously, “a motion sensor triggered on a security floor. I flagged it for follow-up, and …”
“What floor?” McCallum snapped.
“Floor 198, sir.” He sneezed again. “I stepped away to take my medicine. Then the whole system went crazy. Those sensors trigger all night long — false alarms from temperature and pressure changes. I forgot until I updated my logs.”
McCallum was already reviewing the logs. Sure enough, on 198 a motion sensor had triggered just before the crash. He pulled up video for the hallways and sent bots to probe for more information.
Then he noticed the one detail everyone else missed. Halfway down the hall, a white-on-white door moved. A sliver of black appeared. The door cracked open from the inside — only an inch, but enough to trigger an alarm. McCallum had a horrible sinking feeling. It was the recycling system door. He zoomed closer. Within the shadow, a point of light glimmered.
He enhanced. A lighter color filled the inch of darkness. Someone was in there. Someone short. Geneva. Whatever she was doing had wreaked havoc on one of the most advanced security systems in the world.
“Assemble my team. And get me a perimeter. I want spiders in the recycling chute. Right now. The entire building is on total lockdown.”
* * *
Spider-bots swarmed the chute. It was empty. A small person could scale it to reach the upper floors. He kicked himself for making that system a lower priority.
The bots scanned through the walls, ceiling, and floor of 198. Foxx’s computer room had a visitor.
McCallum braced himself to make the call.
* * *
“We’ve got her. On 198. I think it’s only the robot. The boy does not appear to be on site. Yes, sir. We’ll see you there.”
Geneva. McCallum snapped his helmet shut and grimly put on his gloves. Sometimes he hated his job.
Geneva didn’t have time to be amazed. Foxx’s private codes poured out of the system. She had them all. The Future was hers.
She decided to add a little surprise of her own to the mix, too. Her fingers flew. She was on Foxx’s system. Her addition would be indistinguishable from anything Foxx or Yates had written.
There was only one problem. Foxx’s security force was mobilizing. She should get out now. But she wasn’t finished. I may escape yet, if Charlie can pull off his end of the deal. She brought him up on chat.
* * *
“Get out! Get out!” Charlie screamed. “They’ll destroy you!
Your firmware!”
Geneva was cool and calm. “You’re doing great. Listen, I need you to …”
* * *
It got worse. Charlie’s video feeds went dark: Remote Host Unavailable.
Buzz. It was the VidCel. His palms were sweating.
“What you need to do … I’ve got the … hurry and … download code …” Geneva spoke so fast he couldn’t catch everything.
“Geneva! Forget the code! Get out! Right now! They’re coming!”
“Let them come. This is gonna work. InterNext is down, but I’m sending data over the cell. Is it receiving?”
Transfer complete. “Yeah, it’s done.”
“Four codes sent. But the next one is huge. They’re going to jam the signal.”
File transfer. The blue line crawled across the tiny cell screen.
“No matter what, follow the directions. I’m counting on you,” Geneva said.
Security was moving in.
“Wait! I can’t do this by myself! I need you!”
“Just remember —”
Click. She was gone.
File transfer failed.
“Cell jam complete, sir. We traced a call in the building.”
“Explain,” McCallum replied.
“The point of origin is an upper floor,” the IT guy said. “We estimate the call recipient to be a block or two east, six hundred to a thousand feet up.”
McCallum was impressed. To the east, there were only four or five tall buildings, unless the subject was in a helicopter. Unlikely.
Tech security had blocked all unauthorized data flowing in and out of the building. “Several streams are still attempting to get through. They’re probably legitimate, but we’re cross-referencing all hardware addresses.”
“You have two minutes.”
McCallum and Red Team rode up the only two active elevators. The building was on lockdown. No one in; no one out. Not even data.
Ding. The elevator door opened. Floor 198.
“Weapons nonlethal. Do not fire unless I give the order.”
John McCallum entered the hallway with his security team one step behind. He took in a sharp breath. The hall seethed in a crawling, surging mass of robotic bugs, writhing on the walls, ceiling, and floor. It reminded him of a horror movie.
Even more disarming, the spiders cut a wide berth around a single figure: Gramercy Foxx.
Security was closing in.
With Charlie safe, there was still hope. And Geneva’s contribution to The Future would be untraceable. She didn’t have time to test it, but time would tell.
* * *
What? Charlie couldn’t believe what he was reading. Hum code. And Geneva wanted him to deactivate it?
But there was no time! This was crazy! He didn’t have the Code Analyzer or Callaya to help him!
Panicking won’t help. He slowed down and cleared his mind. Then he opened the files she sent.
Geneva was counting on him.
Geneva could actually feel the broadcast field turn off. Magnetic, electric, or Hum, it shut down. A tingle in her circuitry was suddenly gone.
Charlie did it!
It was time to make herself scarce. They’d locked her out of everything except the air-conditioning and lighting controls. She’d anticipated that.
She was about to log out when she noticed an innocuous-looking file on the storage area network — a file called Virtue. Geneva knew she should bolt. Still, knowing more about Foxx’s spokesperson might be one more tool to stop him. She decided to take the risk and grab that file before she slipped out of the room.
* * *
Geneva wasn’t the only one who had felt a change when Charlie shut down the Hum field that prevented Geneva from smashing atoms.
Foxx felt it, too. But he was unconcerned. It has to be the boy, and he thinks he’s accomplished something that matters. Foxx even smiled. There would be no time travel, no escape for his runaway today.
* * *
“Blue Bird is airborne.” The helicopter pilot called in to McCallum, who was busy on Floor 198. If the mystery caller was on a roof, McCallum would know soon.
Outside the lab, Gramercy Foxx demanded a moment of silence. None of the men were allowed to look at him. Foxx began to speak in a quiet, singsong voice. Foxx’s body moved in rhythm with the sound.
What is he doing? McCallum suddenly felt woozy, as if he’d just gotten off a roller coaster.
He felt he could almost see Foxx’s voice. The air in the hallway thickened until it made him claustrophobic. The sudden nausea reminded him of his whiskey nightmares. He fought it.
How was this affecting his men? His readouts blanked, as if they’d overloaded. There was no explanation. He thought of the strange, unexplainable helicopter incident. And then it was over.
Foxx was looking straight at him, strangely calm. Waiting.
McCallum gave the order. The door swung open, and he led his team into the computer room.
On the roof, Charlie was having a mini-celebration. He had never felt so attuned to the Hum. The code Geneva sent him had become so clear that he instinctively knew how to block it. It was as simple as snapping his fingers.
But then he sensed a surge in the Hum. It started as a rumble. He didn’t hear it, he felt it — a massive force he didn’t think possible in this time and place.
The entire TerraThinc Building emanated a Hum glow so intense it blotted out the building altogether. What was going on?
* * *
Geneva had just climbed into the air duct before the door burst open. Five armed men jumped into the dark computer room. Even with night-vision goggles, it would take several seconds to spot her. She was in full camouflage, above their heads and clear across the room.
McCallum scanned the rows of computer racks. Long runs of cable rails snaked their way through the mazelike room.
“Clear, clear, clear, clear!” His men confirmed the room was empty. Spiders flooded in.
The thin metal of the air duct had popped noisily when Geneva crawled in. She didn’t dare move again. They’d hear her for sure. Barely breathing, she listened to the soldiers. But another sound distracted her — like dry leaves in the wind. Or thousands of tiny robotic bugs. She needed a plan. Fast.
* * *
The sensor bots easily found her. McCallum pointed his Mark V at the duct where Geneva was hiding. “We know you’re up there, Geneva. Come on down, nice and easy.”
She recognized McCallum’s voice but didn’t intend to climb down nicely or easily. Her digital map of the air ducts showed a straight run for fifty feet into the ceiling above the next room. If she could make it there, she might have a chance.
Hands and feet in gecko mode for extra traction, Geneva dashed forward.
They heard the pop-popping of sheet metal. She was making a run for it.
“Energy weapons on stun! Light her up!” Five beams of Mark V plasmonic electricity hit the duct.
A blast from the Mark V fried electronics. Cars died. It was highly effective.
Except against a robotic girl who considered it fun to get struck by lightning. She soaked up the power, topping off her stores.
* * *
“Cease fire!” McCallum yelled. The girl hadn’t missed a beat. When the electrical storm stopped, he even heard laughter. “What on earth?”
His men stared, dumbfounded.
“You three with me. Ramirez, get into that duct!” Jorge Ramirez was smallest. McCallum and the other three ran into the hallway.
* * *
Geneva dropped into the next room — another computer lab. Limited exits. There was only one viable escape route. The Smasher portal should be above her.
The door burst open. “On the ground! Freeze!”
The four men seemed to move in slow motion, but this time their weapons would fire bullets. They would tear her insides apart. She needed three seconds.
“On the ground!”
Geneva’s mind-splitting siren ripped the air.
“RRRRRRRrrrrrooooooooowwrrrrrrrrrr!”
It nearly burst their eardrums and sent them to their knees in agony.
Someone fired. Bullets ricocheted. Geneva dodged around a row of computer racks. She skidded to a stop and touched her index fingers together.
“See you later, McCallum!”
But nothing happened.
She tried again. “Come on, SMASH!”
Again, nothing. But I’m fully charged. Charlie had disarmed Foxx’s blocking field … she’d felt it! What am I missing?
It was too late. Click. A gun cocked behind her. “Turn around, slowly.”
She did, hands in the air. McCallum found himself marveling at Foxx’s handiwork, yet the man’s motives were deeply disturbing. Why build a robotic girl? She looked so … normal.
Geneva sized him up. “You don’t know what he’s doing, do you?” Her voice cut through the ringing in his ears.
For the first time in twenty years, McCallum found himself off-balance, uncertain.
“I’ll take it from here.” Gramercy Foxx appeared from nowhere. He placed one cold hand on McCallum’s shoulder.
Geneva’s eyes filled with terror. McCallum felt her pleading. But he looked away. His men were rubbing their ears. Ramirez dropped out of the duct. The walls and floor swarmed with bots. Lawrence Yates stood by a computer terminal, staring vacantly. How had they missed seeing him? McCallum called out orders to his team, but in his heart, he felt a sinking sense of disgust. Have I become a coward?
Geneva’s teeth began to chatter. She had no plan, no escape, and no hope.
“Geneva, my dear, dear girl. I’ve missed you,” Foxx said. “Confused? Ahh, no time travel to escape. I gave you the ability to smash atoms. I also took it away. I created you. Like me, you are now stuck. The doors to the past and future will not open to you again. There is a power greater than your brilliant technology: me.”
So Foxx had disrupted the fields himself.
“And the boy?” Foxx asked smoothly. “He is nearby? Security intercepted your call. They’re fetching him. We’ll all be together soon. John, you may leave now.”