King of Code

by CD Reiss

  XLVII

  Out in the deep parts of the country, the horizon’s different. It doesn’t disappear behind buildings or get lost in a haze of light and particles. It’s not a line graph of mountains. It’s cut straight all around, like an ocean of land, and at night, it’s marked by the line where the stars end.

  “Why don’t you get Orrin to fix the steering on this thing?” I asked.

  It was hard enough to keep the shimmymobile on the road in daylight. With visibility at zero outside the cones of the headlights and the wind whipping the plastic we’d used to cover the window I’d broken, I’d almost run into a ditch more than once. She took deep breaths whenever the car went wide, digging her fists into her sweatshirt and tying her face into knots. It was cute and unnecessary.

  “He won’t take my money. I won’t let him do it for free, and if I go to another mechanic, he’ll never forgive me. And I like it that way. It’s like a horse I tamed myself.”

  “You’re all crazy. Down to the last one of you.”

  “You’ve mentioned that. Pull over here. I see him.”

  I didn’t see shit until she pointed toward the right and the headlights caught a flicker of reflective red. His truck was parked behind a bush between the road and the train tracks.

  “I love the whole cloak-and-dagger thing you guys have going.”

  “Yeah, well, if Pat knew, she’d have a fit.”

  “She’d be right.” I pulled up in front of the bush and cut the engine. I’d never known stars could be bright enough to see by, but there was a lot of shit I didn’t know.

  The deodorant with the transmitter was in a paper bag at Harper’s feet. We’d opened the deodorant from the bottom so it wouldn’t disrupt the seal and put the transmitter under the base. The other transmitter was in Harper’s pocket, protected by clear kitchen wrap.

  Harper pulled down the plastic over her broken window. I turned on the dome light. He leaned his elbows on the top of the door. “Well, hello, Mr. Harden. Harper. What happened to the window, here?”

  “Taylor happened.”

  He shot me a dirty look, and I shrugged like a man driven to madness.

  Harper handed him the paper bag. “The order number’s on the inside of the bag. Do you have the jar?”

  He looked at Harper, then me, then back at Harper. There was only one interpretation for that look. What the hell is this guy doing here?

  “He’s all right,” Harper said, holding out her hand.

  “First, you’re going to tell me what you’re up to.”

  “Trust me.” She took the jar from him and spun the cap off.

  “I trust you. And I like the gentleman in the driver’s seat well enough to shoot pool and throw back a few. But trust is a different thing. I’m not risking my job for some rich, excuse the term or don’t, asshole. No offense.”

  “None taken,” I said. “But you put the plant in my watch. So consider this more of the same.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He dropped the bag back in Harper’s lap, stepped away from the car and into the darkness.

  “Johnny!” Harper opened the door.

  I reached over and closed it. “Stay here.”

  “Why? What—?”

  Grabbing her wrist, I gave her my full attention for two words. “Trust me.”

  I grabbed the bag with the deodorant and got out of the car, where the road slanted away. I almost fell. Gravity pulled the door closed. As I went around the front, Harper’s face went to stone as she shut off the dome light.

  No dummy, that girl. She could see us and not be seen if the dome light was off.

  No dummy. Unexpectedly smart.

  Why unexpected?

  Say it.

  To yourself, you can say it.

  Say, “I always assumed pretty girls weren’t that bright.”

  “Johnny!” I called, running into the bush. I found him with the clack of a zippo and the pin light of a cigarette. “Hold up.”

  My eyes adjusted to the starlight. We were right next to his truck. He leaned on the bed.

  “I’m holding up.” He held a pack of cigarettes out for me. I declined. “Good move. These fucking things killed my mother.” He took a drag as if testing mortality. “You want me to do you a favor. I know I don’t have much to lose, but it’s all I have.”

  I leaned on the cab. He had a house. His wife had a barely profitable business. He had kids in school and a truck. No, it wasn’t much. And who was I to jeopardize it?

  I had no right to ask him to do me a favor, but I had no other way to save myself. “Tell me how to make it worth your while.”

  The smoke billowing from his lips was blue in the starlight. It dispersed when he shook his head. “I helped Harper with… what did she call it? Her exploit. A few of us did. Desperate people take risks. It was a stupid idea, but you showed up, right on time. It looked like it was working. You, then we were going to work on the Irish one. Fitzgerald. Then Catherine says you’re holed up in a room at their place. I had to practically tie Butthead down.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s ours. We protect her and her sister, and they protect us. That’s how it goes. And now I’m seeing… I don’t know what you got going on with her. I’m not making assumptions. I mean, I know well enough. It’s your intentions I can’t seem to figure out.”

  “My intentions? What were your intentions bringing me here? You talk like you’re so clean. You ruined my life so you could squeeze me. And for what? You think I have some endless well of cash? I’m nobody. I’m ten years away from buying a factory.”

  He threw his cigarette down and smashed it with the ball of his foot. A car passed, casting moving bush-shaped shadows across us before fading away.

  “We’ll be here,” he said.

  “Why?” I only said one word, but a lecture’s worth of questions was inside it. Why stay if it’s so miserable? Why risk everything for a town that had abandoned him already?

  “We got nowhere to go. I wanted my children to raise our grandchildren here, but they’re in all corners of the country. Maybe three times a year Pattycakes gets one to show up. Maybe. My daughter, did you know she’s an artist? She can’t ever come back here. For what? So she can be alone? There’s no opportunity here for her to be more than a mother, and she can do that anywhere. My son, the one in law school? Who’s he gonna represent here who can pay him? I raised them to do better than we did. I didn’t know that meant I’d never see them. I miss them. I miss my children. And you can buy that factory and hire all of us at twenty-five an hour, but my kids aren’t coming back. It’s me, my wife, and this town. It’s all I got.”

  That was that. I couldn’t offer him his life or the company of his children. His home wasn’t a place; it was a time in his life that all the money in the world wouldn’t bring back.

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t have any words of wisdom.

  “Things were supposed to get better.” He seemed to speak to the dirt, the stars, his broken heart.

  Jesus. I was turning into some kind of pussy. What was the difference? There were winners and losers in this world. We sank or we swam. Complaints were for whiners and failures. Change. Grow. Learn. Get it right the hundredth time if you had to.

  I felt the truth of all of that, but I couldn’t say it out loud, even in a supportive, managerial way. It meant accusing Johnny of not trying hard enough, not getting lucky enough. It meant accusing him of being complacent, which wasn’t fair even if it was true.

  My worldview was having a head-on collision with the world.

  “I got you.” I switched the brown paper back from my right hand to my left and held the right out to shake. “Harper and I will figure it out.”

  He clasped my hand and shook it. “Sorry I went girl on you.”

  “Speaking of girl.” He let my hand go, and I pointed at her shitty car. “Harper.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m not playing around. I love her. You don’t have to believe
me, but it’s the truth.”

  “You take care of her then. She’s the gem of Barrington. You can’t break her, but you can lose her if you know what I’m saying.”

  “Sure.” I started back for the car, but Johnny came for me and grabbed the paper bag.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “No promises.”

  “None expected.”

  He got in his truck and turned the ignition. The rear lights turned the greenery black and the ground red.

  Harper was behind the bush.

  “Is he taking the jar?” she asked when Johnny’s truck pulled onto the road.

  “I don’t want to use him.” I passed her. “We’ll figure something else out.”

  I got into the driver’s side, and she slid in next to me.

  “What happened?” She slammed her door closed.

  “Life happened.” I turned the ignition. “It’s one thing to risk your job for your own good. But this isn’t for him or Barrington. It’s for me. I can’t ask him to lose his job for me.”

  “Get out.” She pushed my shoulder as if we were fighting on a playground. “I’m driving.”

  “Fine. You drive this shitcan.”

  “It’s not a shitcan. It’s a choice. Like you giving up.”

  She had to scream the last part because I was already out of the car.

  Note to self: this was a girl who didn’t like to change plans.

  “Officially,” she said when I got in, “we are not speaking.”

  She wasn’t cute when she was mad. I’d have been crazy to minimize her ferocity. She was formidable, and it was a massive turn-on.

  “Unofficially,” I said as she made a U-turn to go back to Barrington, “I’d like to kiss you.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Is that a smirk? Are you smiling?”

  “Smiling doesn’t mean I’m not mad.”

  “Letting Johnny off the hook doesn’t mean I’m giving up.”

  She let that hang between us on the empty road, and I didn’t follow up. I watched the starry horizon change and let the thup whup of the seams in the road lull me. How many days had gone by? How many more until Keaton turned the boot code into open source? How long did he have to crack the rest of the Harperware? We had no time, and we had too much.

  Five days.

  Code laced like a drawstring bag.

  Harper turned down the tight little dirt road to the Barrington house. The car did shimmy less when she drove. When I bought her a new car, she probably wouldn’t know how to make a left at all.

  The contract.

  The contest.

  The con.

  She stopped in front and cut the engine. Didn’t get out. Didn’t open the door. Said nothing. We sat in the dark together, listening to the grass crackle.

  My chain of thought wasn’t disrupted.

  Cut the cord.

  To the anchor.

  And drift toward the horizon.

  The lights went off on the bottom floor and clicked on upstairs. Catherine wouldn’t cry tonight. I didn’t know how I knew that, but I didn’t question the truth of it.

  The system is closed.

  Until it’s not.

  Then…

  “GreyHatC0n’s in less than a week,” I said.

  “If you want to go, you should go.”

  “You know how Bitcoin works, right? The information blockchains?”

  “Yeah.” She slid down in her seat in a resigned slouch. “Transparency creates honesty. If everyone can see the transaction history, it can’t be falsified, et cetera.”

  “Documentation of every Bitcoin transfer ever made is available on the blockchain. What everyone sees becomes the truth.”

  She faced me. “Yes?”

  She was so beautiful I didn’t think I could ever live without her. I was so far ahead of myself I was living in two mental time zones.

  In one, she was mine.

  In another, I’d lost her and everything I’d worked for to the consequences of my bad decisions.

  “If I tell everyone the contest is on, then it’s on, whether Keaton wants it to be or not. He has to unlock it, or he looks stupid. He looks like he’s not in control.”

  “If you tell them? How are you getting online?” She spoke softly, as if there were more on her mind than the elegant social engineering of my plan.

  “You’re going to have to turn off your signal scrambler. If you dare.”

  “I dare.”

  I opened the door, and the dome light went on. She squinted.

  “I want you to win it, goose.”

  XLVIII

  TWITTER

  * * *

  @Beezleboy363636

  None of you bitches are ready for QI4.

  #GreyHatC0n #QI4

  @hackerbitch

  Look who’s back. Still pwned?

  Change your handle to

  @BreachBoy. #QI4choked

  @Beezleboy363636

  Five mill says you can’t get in.

  But bring what you got.

  #GreyHatC0n #QI4 #IT_Solid

  @git-up

  You patch that RU hack?

  Nyet? I got money on you shitting

  your pants. #tool #douche # QI4choked

  @anon_00110001

  Bro. You find the dude who hacked

  you? You fuck him good? Or did

  41ph4_W01f break his kneecaps?

  #BeezeIsBack #QI4rulz

  @J0k3r_K1Ng

  Oh, shit. It’s on.

  #GreyHatC0n

  @BeezleBoy363636

  Wasn’t a dude.

  @anon_00110001

  Bot? AI?

  @BeezleBoy363636

  Girl. Female.

  @hackerbitch

  ALL HAIL KARMA.

  @anon_00110001

  Yeah… no.

  @shelly-code

  And you haven’t literally died of

  shame yet you fucking sexist douche?

  @BeezleBoy363636

  Can’t talk now. Eating crow.

  @hackerbitch

  (dies)

  @anon_00110001

  Dude. Seriously?

  @BeezleBoy363636

  Bump in the road, people. You need to

  have a little faith in the early fail.

  @shelly-code

  I’m buying tickets to #GreyHatC0n

  just to see you eat shit.

  @engadget

  The QI4 Challenge is back on. bit.ly/4nfw8rfS

  @Wired

  EXCLUSIVE: Sources say QI4 code still on

  lockdown but ready for a 5-million-dollar

  exploit. bit.ly/7bfw9sfW

  @gizmodo

  Show us the money. Five-mill challenge to

  hack QI4 is back.

  @hackeropz

  Buckle in. #QI4 @BeezleBoy363636 &

  @41ph4_W01f are mid-stunt.

  Just like I knew he would, Keaton came on a private thread like a gopher popping his head out of a hole.

 

  What the fuck are you doing?

 

  My damnedest to get QI4 back on track.

 

  I HAVE IT.

 

  I’ve secured my end. Just make sure

  it’s unlocked in time. Out.

  XLIX

  I leaned back in her chair. She was on the love seat with her feet tucked under her, watching the hacker forums and Twitter blow up.

  “It’s happening,” she said, eyes big. Was she pale, or was it the light?

  “Hell, yes. And Keaton’s going to have to go along or eat his shirt. He’s got pride where most people have sense, so I’m pretty sure he’ll go along.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  I spun the chair to face her. “What? This is easy. You hack in. Then you get the five mil and do whatever you want with it. Pay the taxes on the factory. Buy everyone Oxycontin.”

&
nbsp; “Not funny.”

  I dropped to my knees in front of her, wedging myself between her thighs. She put her arms around my shoulders.

  “What are you so nervous about?” I asked.

  “This is so big.”

  “You’ve done it before.”

  “That was different. I locked it from the outside. I didn’t get in and crack it. I got QI4 to run my code. And I got a ton of lucky breaks. This time, once I decrypt—”

  “Your encryption. Harperware.”

  “I’ll be up against everyone. The best.”

  “You know how to talk to QI4. You’re already ten steps ahead.” I leaned forward, elbows on her thighs. I wanted her to know I was serious, but I couldn’t touch her. She needed to believe it without the sex. “I built this to withstand the attack. I’m not worried about anyone at the conference. Just you. And you can take that money and pay the back taxes on the factory. Then you can sell it, give it away, break it up into luxury condos if you want.”

  She turned her hands over in her lap and rubbed her palm with the ball of her thumb as if she wanted to change the lines of her fortune. “He won’t let me win.”

  My phone buzzed.

  Keaton. Right on time.

  I squeezed her hand and dashed down the stairs, picking up when I was in the only enclosed, private space I could think of. The kitchen pantry.

  “Hello.”

  “I don’t know if you’re a genius or an idiot.” Keaton was as calm as ever. “Baiting me to unlock QI4 like that?”

  “I’m not baiting you.”

  “Describe what you’re doing.”

  “Letting everyone know the hack is fixed and we’re going on as planned.”

  “Is it? And are we?”

  “It is. Once you open it up, we’ll decrypt the lock. The flaw was in the supply chain. That’s rectified with line inspections. We are a go.”

  “What about the hacker? Who are they? That house you called from—”