Echoes (US Edition)

by Laura Tisdall

  She taps on her desk.

  Four, three, four, two.

  She looks at the bottom right-hand corner of the screen, where Warden’s name remains written in the annoying, dull grey that marks him as offline. When she thinks about it, she doesn’t have a mental image for him either; she gets an impression of him – a kind of feel – but never a face. Warden is just Warden. She glances at the clock. And he’s late. He’s usually on by now and she wants to ask him what he thinks about the lack of requests. He’ll tell her straight up if she’s reading too much into it. Maybe she’s just over-tired. For the briefest second, she hovers her cursor over The Asker’s name instead. She could just ask him.

  She could…

  She doesn’t.

  It doesn’t work that way. Maybe it could, but she almost doesn’t want it to. She wants him to be separate, wants him to remain that little bit apart from everything and everyone else. She moves the cursor away. The last time they spoke was two days ago, after her last hack. He’d thanked her, briefly, and sent her a link to another leak of some of the Harrison Copeland documents. It had made it onto CNN now. He’d told her, again, about the difference she’d made, the good she had done – and she’d said she understood, because that was what he wanted to hear. He believed it, and maybe she did too…

  She does.

  But the article had said people had lost their jobs in the wake of the leaks. Her mind flicks to what would happen if Roger lost his job… She shuts that line of thinking down. Too many angles, no absolutes. Maybe those people deserved it. They were probably bad people, involved in what they were. The Asker believes it was the right thing – and she believes in him. That’s enough. She flexes out her gloved fingers. She just needs another hack, something to focus her.

  A good hack.

  Hello, Echo. She starts as the new chat box appears. Her eyes flick to the corner, but Warden is still offline. It’s from The Asker.

  Hello, she replies, sitting up straighter.

  Oh great. The words flash up as Queen Scarlet’s name appears in the box too. So when you said we needed to talk, you meant a ‘team’ meeting. Does she really have to be here?

  Bite me, Mallory thinks, feeling a sudden surge of satisfaction about her new rating.

  Yes, she does, The Asker replies. Please be civil. Mallory’s lips twitch upwards.

  What’s going on? she writes.

  Assuming you hadn’t noticed, sugar, Scarlet responds, some of the children are getting antsy with hardly any new hacks. No new hacks means something’s up.

  Mallory frowns; she wasn’t reading too much into it then.

  Before we proceed, continues The Asker, I need your assurances that what I tell you will stay between us.

  Of course, she answers.

  You betcha, adds Scarlet.

  Very well, he writes. Then, Have either of you heard of Cyber Sneak?

  The question takes Mallory by surprise.

  Yes, she replies. She’s a black-hat – a hacker whose activities strictly aren’t the legal or ‘for the greater good’ kind – runs elite-level hacks, seemingly just for kicks. She’s the one who cracked the Pentagon last year.

  How do you know that? Scarlet asks. Even the Feds don’t know who did it.

  I wanted to know how it was done, Mallory answers, so I looked into it. All down to a malware virus from a phony defense contract email, if you’re interested.

  Just full of tricks, aren’t you, says Scarlet. Mallory doesn’t respond, just imagines her version of Scarlet, sitting in front of her computer, scowling and picking cracked nail polish off her stubby little fingers.

  Echo is right, The Asker replies. Cyber Sneak is the one who hacked the Pentagon. There’s a pause.

  Why do you ask about her? Mallory writes.

  Because she’s disappeared.

  Mallory wavers.

  Disappeared? responds Scarlet. As in, how?

  As in, says The Asker, none of her regular contacts have heard from her since September fourteenth. That’s eleven days now.

  How do you know?

  It’s my job to listen for rumors, he answers, and anything concerning elite hackers concerns me. I keep a close track of a number of them.

  So, she’s not been online for a while, Scarlet writes, but I’m assuming no one knows who she actually is in real life – unless dear Echo’s figured that out too – maybe she’s sick or moved or went on holiday…

  There are people she would usually give warning to, The Asker responds. She has a network, just like you do. Would either of you ever leave the Forum without telling anyone?

  No, Mallory thinks, she wouldn’t. Not unless something was wrong.

  So a hack went bad and the water got too hot, responds Scarlet. She’s lying low. Hell, maybe she’s a depressive and killed herself. Hate to sound insensitive, but I don’t get what this has to do with us and what we’re doing here – and there being no big new hacks.

  Because she’s not the only one who’s missing, The Asker replies. Usually, I’d agree it’s not our concern, but two of the other elites I watch have gone AWOL since Sneak.

  No one says anything for a moment. Mallory is unsure what to make of it.

  Who are the others? she asks.

  A hacker called Weevil went second, on September eighteenth. Then the third was Tower, a grey-hat who likes to crash clothing chains linked to sweatshops. He disappeared four days ago, on the twenty-first.

  Mallory has only vaguely heard of Tower, but she definitely knows the name Weevil. He’s been responsible for a number of particularly irritating viruses over the past couple of years.

  You think they’re connected, she says, frowning again. On the face of it, it seems a little far-fetched… but then, this is The Asker – he doesn’t ever say anything he isn’t serious about. Maybe he knows more than he’s letting on.

  Maybe, he responds.

  Some kind of crackdown by the Feds? says Scarlet. Were they working on something together?

  It’s all possible, but not that I know of, The Asker replies. There’s been no chatter regarding the FBI and, as far as I’m aware, our three missing hackers never crossed paths. I’m looking into possible connections at the moment. The box goes silent, then, I know how this sounds. I’m fully aware that each case could be harmless and unrelated. I hope they are. I hope they all resurface again like nothing was ever wrong – but I don’t know yet. You asked before what it has to do with us, Scarlet; every hacker in the Forum is an elite grey-hat. Mallory shifts, a little disconcerted by the direction he’s taking. I believe in what we’re doing, he goes on, but I’m also not naïve to the fact that I put each one of you at risk every time I ask for a new hack. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to release a tenth of the information we currently do – and so I keep asking – but I also do everything possible to ensure you’re all kept safe. The Forum is as secure as it can be, but if elites are disappearing from the web, I want to know why and I’m not sending anyone out on major hacks until I do.

  Another pause.

  No major hacks.

  Mallory’s discomfort rises at the confirmation.

  You say you’ve been watching them, Scarlet writes, did you ever invite any of them to join the Forum?

  No. That reply comes quickly. I never made any of them aware of us. All are extremely talented, but they’re also too high profile. We can’t hold egos and stay anonymous. Hitting the Pentagon is an ego hack.

  So what do you want us to do? Scarlet asks. Do you need help? You want us to check something out?

  No, replies The Asker, I don’t want you involved. That’s why I haven’t told anyone else, and why you mustn’t either. But it will take up more of my time. I need you to watch the Forum more closely while I am busy, look out for anything unusual, any comment that could relate to this. I’ll keep posting low level hacks where I can, things that will fall under the radar, but you might need to smooth the waters for me. Of course, he adds, if you do hear anything yourselves, let m
e know.

  I will, Mallory replies.

  Sure thing, says Scarlet. Then, I still think you’re chasing flies, though. Mallory shifts again. Part of her can’t help but agree, though she doesn’t say it. When hackers disappear, it’s for any number of reasons. Sneak’s probably holed up in a motel room with a crate of Red Bull and a month’s supply of Cheetos, thinking the Feds are finally onto her for the Pentagon. Weevil and Tower are probably unrelated. Probably.

  But it’s The Asker, she thinks. And she trusts The Asker.

  Thank you, he replies. And, just be careful, okay. I know you are anyway, but humor me. Then he leaves. A chat box alone with Scarlet is not exactly Mallory’s favorite place to be. She goes to close it.

  Well, that was weird, Scarlet writes, sending before she can. Honest opinion?

  Mallory hesitates.

  It’s probably nothing, she types.

  Check it out, sugar, you said something smart. The Asker always was a little paranoid. Still, he’s kept us safe a long time. We do like he says. We watch the Forum, Echo, watch it tight.

  Yes, Mallory replies.

  Right then, Scarlet goes on, you check the threads for anything odd, and I’ll keep the kids happy. I can wrap most of them round my little finger if I need to.

  And then she leaves, without waiting for a reply. Mallory watches the empty chat box, not quite certain how she feels about what just happened other than she doesn’t like that it did. Her room is silent, the house is silent – everything is silent – but she feels tied up inside in a way she never usually does on the Forum. She’s not really worried about the missing hackers… but it’s disconcerting that The Asker is worried.

  And there won’t be major hacks till he works it out. There’s the briefest flare of frustration… I need –

  She shuts it down, slamming her eyelids tight closed until it subsides. The Asker knows what he’s doing. She just has to be patient, and has to watch the Forum like she just promised him she would. She takes a deep, slow breath, and looks back at the screen, consciously relaxing her shoulders. Her eyes flick automatically down to the bottom corner – but Warden’s still not online. She feels a sinking disappointment. She knows she can’t talk to him about what The Asker said, but… she just feels disjointed without him there, without having spoken to him at all that night. She glances at the clock again. It’s definitely late, even for him. Her finger itches to start tapping, but she holds it still.

  We watch the Forum.

  That should be her focus. She clicks into the message boards and starts checking through all the threads, reading everything new. No one else has mentioned any missing elites – but that’s not exactly surprising. Outside of the ACTIVITIES section, there’s just the usual stuff; coding chat, role-play threads, conspiracy theories, arguments about the correlation of the latest Marvel movie to the comic books… One thread catches her eye, though. The Forum’s newest newbie – Spyder – has dredged up an old discussion on the hacker Daedalus.

  Crap.

  Mallory grimaces. Someone brings up that damn topic every couple of months, despite the fact the guy’s been dead for going on two years now. Spyder’s asking if anyone thinks his last virus is real. Mallory presses her fingers against her temples. It’s amazing what supposedly smart people will believe. It’s a waste of time. Soon Case_X will re-post his ridiculous ‘rumors always have a basis in truth’ speech and the thread will explode again for another few weeks – which would be fine, except Mallory will have to read and moderate all of it because people get so stupidly heated about the subject. She’d delete the whole, pointless thing if she could, but The Asker won’t let her scrap threads just because people are being inane. She’s asked. He says that any discussion is important.

  She rubs her eyes and clicks out of the thread. Another half hour has passed and there’s no Warden. She should just go to bed, instead of getting all riled up. It’s already too few hours until she has to be up for school.

  Where the hell is he? The question nags. He always tells her if he won’t be on the next night, like she always tells him. She thinks of The Asker’s missing hacker concerns and feels a small pang of worry. Then she dismisses it. The chances of Warden being involved in whatever that is – if it’s even anything – are miniscule. But what if something has happened to him? What if he got hit by a car – because she can seriously imagine him just walking out into the street and not looking…

  You’re being absurd, she tells herself.

  He’ll just be doing whatever it is he does in the evenings in real life when he’s not online. Maybe he got so wrapped up in the latest safe he was trying to crack that he lost track of time – and then just went to sleep like a normal person. The Asker’s worry seems like it’s catching, messing with her tired head and making her nervous online, where she usually isn’t ever nervous. She just wants to talk to Warden, talk about whatever dumb guess he’s come up with for her name today, about the next safe he’s saving to buy – she doesn’t care – she just wants to talk. It’s been a frustrating day. Math sets her on edge now, what with Mrs Fraser-Hampton and all her noticing, and she had to endure two hours of gym class with Bobby and his friends staring at her, and talking and laughing while they played volleyball. She normally just ignores them, but today it had seriously pissed her off. They shouldn’t have been laughing. She’s good at sports, good at the hand-eye coordination, just like Roger. They shouldn’t have damn well laughed. The only plus had been that she’d managed to hit Morgan Hale dead in that smug, glossy face of hers with one smash. It was deliberate and had felt incredibly good.

  She looks at the clock for the millionth time. Warden will be back on tomorrow. She should stop. She doesn’t. She clicks back into the message boards and starts reading through the older stuff too, going back over all the past two weeks’ posts in case she might have missed something before, even though she doesn’t really ever miss things. She tells herself that’s why she’s staying up.

  ***

  Echo? Echo, are you there?

  Mallory starts, her eyelids flickering up from where they had drooped, slowly taking in the words flashing at her from the chat box on screen.

  Warden. He’s been sending her messages for the past five minutes.

  Where the fuck have you been?! she writes, fingers slamming against the keys, a jolt of relief fizzing through her.

  …And hello to you too.

  She hesitates, blinking as her heart settles a little. She probably should have thought that one through more. The level of relief had taken her by surprise, though – which was stupid because she’d known he’d be fine and there was nothing to be relieved about.

  You’re late, she adds, by way of inadequate explanation. She blocks out the itch to tell him what The Asker said, to ask what he thinks.

  I’m sorry, Warden replies. I had to go to this thing at my dad’s work. It overran.

  See? Mallory berates herself. A perfectly normal, human thing.

  Did you miss me then? Warden adds. You’re not normally on this late. I only logged in to send you a message.

  I wept over my keyboard, types Mallory.

  Knew it, Warden replies. This place would be dead without me. Mallory rolls her eyes, though she finds that comment weighs a little. Trust me, I’d rather have been here, he continues. It was supposed to be this party for clients, but it basically meant standing in the corner next to my mother for three hours, making awkward small talk and eating mildly undercooked seafood canapés, while she steadily made her way through two bottles of cheap Champagne. Now, I’m not a fan of seafood at the best of times – too slimy, with little bones or shells everywhere to remind you you’re eating something that once wiggled and jiggled about – but when it’s half cold in the middle…

  Mallory feels herself relax a bit as she reads, something about the rambling familiarity of his rhythm softening the edge of a disconcerting night. She should tell him to stop, though; in one paragraph alone, he’s given away multiple
facts about himself in real life. Most of it she’d figured out already and the chat box is definitely secure – her own encryptions running on top of the Forum’s in-built security – but still… There are always loopholes.

  She lets him talk, just a second longer.

  Then, You shouldn’t tell me all this.

  Why? he answers. Would you really want to try and find me?

  I suppose not. She hesitates. As long as you don’t talk like this to anyone else.

  Jealous?

  Mallory’s cheeks redden.

  Hell, no, she replies, too quickly. Warden goes silent, something it’s usually hard to achieve. Just, she adds, you are careful, aren’t you, in other chats, or in whatever else you do online?

  Sure.

  I’m serious, Warden. I mean it.

  Yes, I’m careful. He pauses. Is everything all right, Echo?

  She stares at the words. She wasn’t expecting them and she realizes then that it’s a long time since she’s heard them from anyone – though he’s asking it because of her questions about security, not about her, not really. For the briefest moment, though, she has the sudden urge to answer ‘no’, to tell him that no, everything’s not all right – and not just because of what The Asker said, because that’s probably nothing, but because of everything else; because today was difficult, and sometimes so much seems difficult and she just wants it to stop, wants her mind to stop going on at her…

  To just stop…

  Because…

  But…

  No.

  Everything’s fine, she says. She is Echo Six in the Forum. Echo, not Mallory. Echo, who is strong, who is solid. You’re just a dumbass sometimes and I didn’t want you to do anything stupid. She swallows, agitated, her tiredness stripped away. He doesn’t reply for a long while and Mallory wonders if she pushed too hard.