by Josie Brown
“You seem to have gotten a very good look at her,” I remind him. “And we also have access to the Dulles Airport security feed of her parking her car and walking through the garage. Put it through our facial recognition software, then run a comparison with anyone, male or female, walking through security.”
He nods as he clicks onto the keys of his laptop.
I shift my gaze to Arnie. “Was her computer also the point of entry for the Mad Hacker? If not, it will go a long way in proving your theory—that the Mad Hacker had nothing to do with the release of the virus.”
Arnie purses his lips. “Good question! I hadn’t thought of that. Right now, I’m running another diagnostic analysis on her computer. Soon we’ll have a footprint that will allow us to compare it to the Mad Hacker’s messages.”
“Even if the footprints differ, and it proves he wasn’t the originator of the virus, the fact that he let himself be known is proof he somehow breached the system too,” Ryan points out. “That alone is enough for a lifetime pass to Club Fed.”
I nod. “But Ryan, he didn’t have to expose the earlier vulnerability to us. Doesn’t that earn him a brownie point or two?”
Ryan shrugs. “It isn’t for us to decide. Our job is to find the culprit—or culprits, as the case may be. To that extent, Emma’s team has some answers as to how the Mad Hacker’s clues may prove helpful in how we proceed.”
Emma nods. “That moves us to the rest of the clues, and the process in which we might solve them. As some of us already know, Carroll was into logic games and word play. Throughout the book, Alice misconstrues many of the answers to her questions because she’ll use a figurative expression, only to have the characters take what she says quite literally. For example, when she uses the term, ‘beating time with music,’ the Mad Hatter responds, ‘He won’t stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he’d do almost anything you like with the clock.’ On the other hand, sometimes they respond with words having dual meanings, or even with puns.”
“As way of example, when the Mock Turtle explains, ‘we called him Tortoise because he taught us,’” I point out.
“Correct,” Emma says. “In any regard, the responses given to Alice are never simple. Nor are they meant to be. In fact, it was Carroll’s contention that, if you’re quickly and easily provided the answer, all conversation ceases. His goal with his readers, who he presumed to be children, was to provoke thought.”
“Which is what the Mad Hacker wants to do with us,” Jack reasons. “He won’t come out and tell us what is about to happen, but how to discover it for ourselves.”
“And to think about the repercussions, if we should fail to do so,” I chime in. One remark he made to me in the elevator stands out most vividly in my mind: Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality.
“There are three WHAT clues,” Jack points out. “The first one—‘It is better to be feared than loved’—obviously refers to some kind of terrorist act. The second one, about business, must in some way refer to Shazaaaam, and possibly the other companies involved. Perhaps all of them have something to do with the Internet, since it mentions the world going a great deal faster.”
“It also touches on ‘minding one’s own business. Could that be an allusion to cyberespionage?” Dominic asks.
Ryan nods. “Unfortunately, your suggestion matches that of Acme’s cryptography team. As for the last WHEN clue, the fact that the Hacker dropped it on Donna indicates he sees her as the answer.” He points to it on the white board:
She who saves a single soul, saves the universe.
Lucky, lucky me.
“My team and I have analyzed the WHERE phrases chosen by Mad Hacker,” Emma explains. “For example, the trial scene involving the King and Queen of Hearts also references birds and beasts, the White Rabbit, a trumpet, a parchment, a dish of tarts, and a pack of playing cards, which are the court’s soldiers.” She projects the screen of her iPad onto the wall. “In searching through Shazaaaam’s database, we’ve cross-referenced some of these words. Case in point, the word ‘soldiers’ may represent the fact that Shazaaaam supplies MMOGs—that is, massively multiplayer online games—to the U.S. Armed Forces as training simulations called AWE.”
“Short for ‘asymmetrical warfare environments,’” Jack chimes in. “It’s one of the ways in which they train soldiers for urban warfare.”
“Exactly,” Emma agrees. “And on the consumer side, one of its top-secret projects just so happens to be a new game called ‘Queen of Hearts.’ We’re doing what we can to find out exactly what’s involved, but Shazaaaam has done a great job of keeping it under wraps, as it’s just now moving into beta trials. However, we do know that they’re unveiling it at the next comics convention—Comic Con’s Wonder-Con, which takes place two weekends from now, in fact, in Anaheim. Our cryptography team thinks this event is represented by the trial, trumpet, parchment, and where the crazy animals come into play.”
“They aren’t animals,” Arnie mutters under his breath. “They’re super heroes, super villains, and comic book creatures.”
“Not to mention super heroines and super villainesses,” Emma mutters pointedly. “We do know, however, that they’re still hiring for it. Donna, that’s where you come in. We’ve already placed you as a new hire, assigned specifically on this new project.”
“But I’m not a game programmer, let alone a coder or a designer!”
“As it turns out, Shazaaaam is specifically looking for a woman for the role of game tester. And, as rare as it is in this business, the fact that you’re over the age of thirty is seen as a plus in this case.”
“Otherwise, we could have used Emma on this one—not that they’d hire someone who’s pregnant,” Arnie interjects.
This earns him yet another scowl from Emma.
I shake my head, confused. “Why is my gender and age an advantage?”
Ryan smiles. “My guess is that they want to tap into one of the biggest consumers of tablet devices—women in that specific age group.”
“As if we have time to play games,” I mutter under my breath.
“Those of you who do are just as likely to become obsessed with them, if the games Angry Birds, Farmville, Bejeweled, The Sims, and Candy Crush are any indication. With the discretionary income of this demographic, even one percent of that market would be a gold mine in the gaming industry,” Ryan explains.
“Which brings us to WHEN,” Emma declares. “From the clues we have, we’re under a ticking clock—sometime within the next three weeks.”
Ryan nods toward me. “To make things even tighter, the fact that the Mad Hacker put Donna in one of the screenshots, means he sees her as integral to the mission.”
Just my luck—especially when my children need me now, more than ever. Of course, if we can tie Carl to the IC vulnerability, we’re free of him—hopefully forever.
So, yes, count me in.
“Wonder-Con may be a hand-off of some sort. If so, it’s just one piece of the puzzle. However, if we stop whatever is supposed to go down there, it may be disruptive enough to bring down the whole operation and lead us to the perpetrators—all the more reason Donna has to be front and center at it.” Ryan turns to me. “Donna, in regard to your employment at Shazaaaam, Jack will be providing back-up. He’s assigned to the legal department, which has access to all contracts. And Arnie will infiltrate as well. He’ll be employed as a game coder, but, of course, his main function is to provide any needed technical expertise.”
Arnie’s smile is wide enough to drive a truck through it. “I’m loving this new assignment already!” He glances over at Emma. When he sees the frown on her face, he gets wise and loses the mad clown grin.
What’s eating her? Seriously, she needs to lighten up on him.
“This isn’t going to be all fun and games,” Ryan reminds Arnie sternly. “Once you’re on a gaming console, your mission is to hack into Shazaaaam’s mainframe computer and search for any files t
hat can incriminate the culprit.”
“The Mad Hacker left us one clue as to who it might be,” Emma says. “The company’s executive vice president in charge of game development is named Roger White, so you can start with any correspondence or files created by or sent to him.”
Jack laughs. “Talk about a broad hint. Both clues play off the word, ‘rabbit,’ what with his last name being White, and the animated character, Roger Rabbit.”
“Not only that, under Roger’s domain are the creative teams who develop the story’s plots and scripts, as well as those involved in animation and design—the two- and three-D artists, audio engineers, and level designers, just to name a few,” Abu points out.
I nod approvingly at him. “Wow, great research.”
“It’s all part of my new gig,” Abu answers. He reaches over the conference room table in order to hand me a business card. Besides his name, it shows that he holds the position of “Associate” with one of the biggest tech headhunting firms in the country. “It’s got an awesome commission structure,” he winks. “Let me put it this way—with just the placements of you three, in three different gigs, I’ll be able to pay off my home in Palos Verdes.”
That certainly has my attention. “Wow! …Wait a minute. If you’ll be making those kinds of commissions off what we’ll be making, we must be doing pretty well too!”
“Heck yeah, doll!” He pulls out a contract. “I was going to give this to you to take home, but if you sign it now, you get a five-thousand-dollar bonus…minus my fifteen percent of course.”
I scan the contract until I find the bottom line. When I see it, my eyes open wide. “You mean that, above and beyond the five thou, I’ll be making over one-hundred thousand a year?” I pluck Jack’s pen out of his hand and sign with a flourish.
“Well, um, yeah…that is, if you stay a full year.”
Aye, there’s the rub.
“Hey, I’ll be lucky if I can fake it for ninety minutes. Speaking of which, do you have any idea how I should prep for this gig?”
Abu frowns. “Beats me. But Emma should know. She a gamer from way back.”
I look up. Arnie is still here, but she’s left the conference room. Through the glass walls, I see her heading toward the ladies’ room.
I run after her, but she makes it through the lavatory door before me.
When I enter, I see why she was in such a hurry to get away—she’s crying.
I put my arm over her shoulder. “Emma, what’s wrong?”
She shrugs it off as she gulps down her tears. “I…I’m just tired of being such a bitch.”
“It’s your hormones,” I chuckle, in the hope that she’ll laugh it off too. “Trust me; I’ve been through the same thing, three times.”
The cause and effect of my words is that her frown only gets deeper. “Yes, I know you have. But each of your pregnancies was planned—with a man you loved. Or, at least you thought you loved him at the time.”
My smile disappears. “The only good things to come out of that relationship were my children. But, had I known then what I know now, would I have stayed with him? No. Everything about Carl is an enigma. I never saw it coming. I had to learn about it, the hard way.” I look her in the eye. “Whereas, everything about Arnie is an open book. What you see is what you get. It may not be perfect, but it is kind, and true, and filled with adoration for you.” I’m making her cry all the harder, but she needs to hear this from me—from someone. “Emma, I know you hadn’t planned on this baby. And I know it wasn’t created with someone you wanted to marry. But you have something so precious that many single parents never have—someone at your side, who loves both you and your child.”
She nods as she sobs. “I…I know what you’re saying. And I adore Arnie too. No—I love him!” Truly I do!” The realization makes her cry all the harder. “It’s just that”—she looks down at her belly—“I never felt that this was who I am. A mom. I joined Acme for the thrill—the adventure! But with a child…” she stops herself with a sigh.
“Acme can always use an operative like you,” I assure her.
“I mean, I always wanted to be in the field.”
“I have three children, and it hasn’t stopped me.”
“I know, but…” She frowns and looks away.
Ah. I get it. Fieldwork isn’t for a woman with a family. And being a honey trap is not exactly conducive to “bring your daughter to work” day. As for wet work—well, it’s not a great way to teach a kid conflict resolution. Do as I say, not as I do—in other words, don’t torture or kill the kid who jumped you in line to the cafeteria.
She winces as my back stiffens. “Donna, please don’t think I’m passing judgment on you! No one has a right to do that! Like you said, you did what you had to do. And when you did it, you felt—you knew it was the right thing to do.” She takes my hand. “That’s just my point. I want to be just like you. Heck, I’d love to sashay into Shazaaaam and blow them away with what I know about gaming. But now—well, I can’t now. And with this tiny person”—she stares down at her belly—“I know, in my heart, I’ll never have a chance at it.”
She’s right.
“Consider yourself lucky.”
From the pitying look on her face, I presume she does, deep down inside.
I’ll admit it, here and now. If it weren’t for Carl, I wouldn’t be putting myself in danger either.
I wish I could pretend I didn’t know who he is and what he’s done. I wish I could walk away from it all; that I could live a quiet, peaceful, and normal life with Jack and my children.
But I can’t.
Someone has got to stop Carl. As much as he was Acme’s mistake, he was mine as well. And had we known what we were dealing with from the start, he wouldn’t have been Lee Chiffray’s mistake, either.
So, now, Carl is in the best position to end Lee’s presidency, and to create a reign of terror and anarchy like the world has never known.
It’s up to me to stop him.
Well, me and someone who calls himself the Mad Hacker.
Let’s hope this isn’t a bad dream.
Chapter 9
We’re Off to See the Wizard
How exciting! You’re loading a new software program into your computer, one containing a handy-dandy “wizard.”
Whereas, in other worlds, a wizard is a person of great and mysterious powers, who knows the right spells to resolve any situation, or to vanquish any foe, in the Etherworld, a wizard is a guidance icon—perhaps a cartoon of a medieval wizard, or the Universal Man, or a paper clip with eyes—which has been given the task of walking you through the steps needed to learn the program easily, and in a respectful and nonthreatening manner.
Here are three things you can expect from the Wizard:
1: Unlike your husband, it won’t get tired of answering your questions or repeating the instructions again and again, until they are seared into your brain.
2: Unlike your husband, it won’t call you “clueless,” under its breath, just because you don’t understand what it wants you to do.
3: And, unlike your husband, it won’t let loose with a cry that sounds like a wounded animal when you throw the computer against the wall out of frustration.
Perhaps if your husband spoke to you in a respectful manner, you’d be just as nonthreatening to him as well.
“Wow! You and Dad will both be working at Shazaaaam?” Jeff’s eyes grow wide in reverence when we break the news to the children at dinner.
“Yep,” I answer nonchalantly. “Until we’re done with this assignment, Aunt Phyllis will be picking up my carpool duties, and staying here at the house.”
All three children wince at my pronouncement. Still, in looking at the bright side, Jeff asks, “Does it come with any bennies—you know, like free games?”
Jack helps himself to the last dollop of mashed potatoes off of Jeff’s plate. “It’s only for a week or so. We’re doing a corporate audit. But, hey, if they say it’s okay, we’
ll certainly score as much free game time for you as they’ll allow. Just write down the titles you want, and we’ll see what we can do.” He looks over at Mary and Trisha. “They have some games that may interest you, too, so feel free to do the same.”
Trisha claps her hands. “Do they make the Penny Arcade games?”
“You mean, like Cupcake Shop 4?” He furrows his brow, pretending the question is a brain-tickler. Penny Arcade is a children’s television network. As it turns out, Shazaaaam is contracted to make games based on their most popular shows. Jack already reviewed the dossier on the company’s products, contracts, and management team, so of course he knows this. Still, he waits until she can no longer hold her breath in anticipation before answering with a resounding, “Yep! I seem to remember that it is one of their games.”
Trisha is so excited that she jumps up out of her chair and nearly spills her milk glass. I narrow my eyes at Jack, the instigator of what would have been this accident. If he thinks he can buy me off with a naughty grin—
Well, he’s right.
Just one more way in which he gets away with murder.
“How about you?” Jack asks Mary.
She shrugs. “Games are lame, especially those aimed at teen girls. The game companies must presume that all girls like to do is shop, be celebrities, or date them.”
“Yeah, well I guess the game designers have seen your shoe closet,” Jeff mutters under his breath, “not to mention all the People magazines under your bed, and the posters of those guys from Arrow and Teen Wolf hanging on your wall.”
She tosses him a dirty look. “Only immature boys play them. Maybe the game designers follow you around and take notes.”
Of course, this only encourages Jeff to double down. “Then I guess Trevor is too immature for you to date, because he’s got the highest FPS score for GoreGasm.” He wraps his arms around himself and smacks his lips together, as if he’s kissing an invisible girl. In a voice an octave higher than usual, he mimics, “Ooooh, goodbye Trevor! I’m too good for you!’”