by Mark Lingane
Joshua said, in very sour tones, “Get off me.”
Damien graciously got up off Joshua’s somewhat thinner frame and helped him up. There was about fifty feet of open grass between them and the front door to the department. They looked, waited and ran, although running wasn’t the right word for what they did. In fact, running would sue them for defamation. They half tiptoed, half ran in an overly theatrical way over the grass. About halfway across the sprinklers came on.
Once across the grass they spread-eagled themselves flat against the wall next to the main doors. Bright light shone out through the glass, illuminating part of the garden.
A bush caught Joshua’s attention. He whispered, “I think we should get inside real quick.”
Damien looked at him quizzically.
“Because that bush over there is looking at us and I think—yes, there they are—it’s in possession of a nasty set of teeth.”
Both tried to push themselves a bit closer to the wall. They inched their way sideways to the doors, using their fingers as the primary thrusters. Damien did his best to turn around to face the doors while keeping his eyes on the dog. He turned his head and froze. He was just in time to see a guard come around a corner.
Very quickly the two inched their way back to the wall and waited for the guard to pass. Again they crawled their way back to the door. Damien took out his piece of plastic the size of a credit card and slid it into the crack between the two doors. The door lock clicked open. The dog, which hadn’t had this much entertainment in years, realized something was amiss. It leaped but too late. Damien and Joshua squeezed themselves into the building and shut the doors just as the dog hit its head on the glass.
The two simultaneously sagged and sighed in relief.
Damien was about to step forward into the hallway when Joshua pulled him back. He motioned to the infrared beam at waist height. Damien fumbled through his backpack and extracted his little mirror and, displaying a remarkable amount of skill that surprised Joshua, slipped it in front of the transmission box. The hallway was now clear for them to walk down.
Joshua had planned a sleek, elegant operation straight to the targeted room. Because of the guard on the loose and Damien having as much directional sense as a shopping trolley, instead they visited the reception, the commissioner’s office, the photocopying room, the tearoom (twice), the ladies’ toilet (just to read the graffiti), a broom closet, and a small library on the way. In the end Joshua whacked Damien around the head to focus his efforts.
Eventually they found what they were looking for. They peeked through a glass door and saw what looked like an important room. Black lettering on the door stated that it was the stationery department. Someone who thought it was funny had written underneath that this was because they didn’t get out much.
The computer sat on its desk looking out over the room. It heard a faint click from the other side of the room. The door opened, apparently by itself, then quietly closed. There was a ferocious whispering. The desk directly in front of the door moved slightly. There was a “Shush” followed by a faint clang. Crumpled pieces of paper fell from behind the desk and scattered over the floor. There was another bout of furious whispering followed by a clothy whack. After a small pause two odd creatures appeared around the base of the desk.
They were about two feet tall and walked awkwardly on four legs. Their skin was black. The computer looked on in amusement until it realized they were heading toward it. It panicked and threw up a screensaver and activated conserve-energy mode. It sat there hoping the strange beasts would pass by but deep within its circuitry it was worried. It felt something tampering with its external manual-input devices. It did its best to ignore the intrusion but resistance was futile. It opened its input circuits and screamed at the sight. Two hooded figures were a few inches away from its prized display unit. The shock was too great for a machine of its increasing years. It sat there dumbly waiting to be violated.
Damien disconnected the input devices from the desk, connected up his own mouse and keyboard to the terminal and started flicking through the menu options.
“I never liked computers,” Joshua said.
“Oh, they’re nothing to be afraid of. They’re quite friendly really.”
“I didn’t say I was afraid of them. I said I don’t like them. There’s a big difference.”
“I’m not a slave to them. I know how to operate anything to meet my requirements. A computer is just a tool to me. That’s how the rest of the world should view technology and not just as a series of toys they never know how to use, allowing themselves to become servants of the machine. Did you know that most people still don’t know how to program the timer on their video chronicler?”
“Don’t tell me about that. I have to wait until a program starts then press the record button. And I’m never sure if it’s recording the channel that it started recording on or the one I’ve switched to.”
“You see? You’re a perfect example. You have to wait to be able to use the machine. But it should be the other way around, like a hammer and nail. You don’t hang around waiting for the hammer and nail to align themselves so you can hit the nail. You just grab the hammer and belt the hell out of the nail till it’s in the wood. That’s how it should be with everything including public transport, but that would be wishing for too much. You use things when you need to, in a way that’s intrinsically obvious rather than waiting for it to be in a situation where you use simple rote muscle movements to get something done, or worse still get someone else to do it for you.”
“Look at your computing skills,” Joshua continued. “These days everything’s done by menus and so on. How would you work with a command line?”
“A what?”
“A command line. It’s what they had before menus and mouses. You used to type in commands on a command line to get the computer to carry out instructions.”
“What, manually?”
“Yes, manually, with your fingers.”
The idea was new to Damien. “How come you know so much about computers all of a sudden?”
Joshua paused and a blank expression crossed his features. “I don’t know. It’s something that’s inside of me. I just know.”
“Well, well, well. Fancy that. So what was the mouse used for?”
“They didn’t use a mouse in those days.”
“They didn’t use a mouse? How did they get the computer to work, then?”
“You see?” said Joshua. “You don’t understand it. Before friendly interfaces and mouses, programmers and general users had to know more about the low-level operation of the machine. Even in some cases down to the binary level.”
“What, with ones and oh’s?”
“Yes, with ones and oh’s. Now can we get on with things?” Joshua said. “We seem to have lost the plot.”
Damien began tinkering with his mouse again. He whizzed through icons and menus faster than Joshua could read them. He wondered how much of Damien’s reputation was based on luck. Damien paused and withdrew a gold CD from his backpack.
“This,” he said, “holds the key. I had to swap quite a bit of stuff for it,” he lied.
“So you finally found a use for that junk in your apartment. What is it or on it?”
“It has an algorithm that can theoretically break government encryption codes. It should give us the highest possible access codes. It’s a highly complex mathematical formula that I won’t trouble you with the details of.”
“You don’t know, do you?”
“I know it like I know the back of my own hand. It takes years of training to even remotely comprehend these codes.”
“You don’t know, do you?”
“Maybe. No, well, all right, I don’t, but I know two things that are far more important.”
“Oh, pray tell, what would those be?”
“Where to get it and how to use it. That’s rule number one of the hacker code. If someone else has got it just get it from them. No point
in reinventing the wheel.” He smiled at Joshua and turned back to the epileptic screen.
He started whizzing through the menus again. “OK. I’ve found the company database. I’m just narrowing down the listings now. OK. Let’s see what we’ve got. Ah.”
They both stared at the flickering screen. A large message was flashing: ACCESS DENIED.
“But I thought you used the highest possible access codes?” Joshua said.
“Obviously not high enough. But wait. Wow. Oh man, would you look at that.”
Joshua craned his neck and tried to make sense of the gibberish on the screen. “What is it?”
“It’s the latest version of Death Kill Zombie Munch. It’s meant to be one mean game. Where are my CDs? I gotta get a copy of this.”
“Are you serious? We’re hiding in the middle of a top-secret government office and you want to copy games.”
“Don’t worry, it won’t take long, and I could swap it for heaps of other stuff. Remember, I am doing this for free.”
“Oh, all right but be quick.”
Damien fished in his backpack and brought out a gold compact disc. He slipped it into the drive and waited for its icon to appear then started to copy it.
“Damn.”
“What?”
“Some of it’s protected. Four bytes, too, by the look of it. Must be copy protection. I’ve got something that can nibble that away though.” Damien froze, briefly lost in thought. He pulled out his special nibble disc and inserted it in the drive. “You know, it’s a long shot but it just might work.”
“What will?”
“Nibbling the file.”
Joshua didn’t feel hungry so he pressed on. “You’re going to nibble your game?”
“Yes. Well, hmm, yes but later. What we’re going to do is nibble the company file. We may not be able to open it but my special copier here may be able to nibble it.”
“Nibble?”
“It basically means copy but in a very clever way. Now let’s see. Copy, on. Display file, yes. And let’s take a punt on this—display protected text, yes. Save to file, yes. What do we want to call the file?”
“What?”
“What do we want to call the file?”
“Is that important?”
“To me it is.”
“I don’t know. Fred.”
“Fred? What kind of a name is that for a file?”
“A simple one. Easy to type.”
“Well, that’s no good. It’s a secret file. It should be something mysterious, like Z25N3.”
Joshua looked at Damien. Some of his ideas definitely needed sorting out. “OK, Z25N3 it is. Just get on with it.”
Damien typed in the appropriate letters and numbers, pressed enter and held his breath. Joshua, who was drawn by the same expectant hacking instincts as Damien, also held his breath. The information poured out onto the screen and into Z25N3.
Joshua couldn’t read the seething mass of data on the screen. He asked Damien for a printout. Damien happily pulled out his thermal printer, having fought for its inclusion in the mission, smiled, and connected it to the computer. They examined the data as the printer shushed it out.
“What’re you after again?” Damien said.
“Air Current. Or M-Division. Fire and Ice. Any of those there?”
“Air Current. Let’s see. Yup. Here it is.”
“What? You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Air Current. Currently listed as inactive.”
“Gimme a look.”
Damien handed the paper over to Joshua. He eagerly ran his eyes over the information. His face fell. “Damn. It says here that it’s been on record for years.”
“Here’s your M-Division, too.” Damien said as he passed over the latest page.
“Damn. It’s the same. Both inactive and both on record for years.” Joshua shook his head in disbelief and sighed. “I really thought …”
After several seconds of silence Damien nudged Joshua. “Thought what?” Damien asked. “What is it?”
Joshua was staring at the two pages, his mouth slowly falling open. “Look at this. See the entries?” Joshua looked at Damien and he nodded in reply. “The actual data says that the data has been on record for years, right? See here?” Joshua pointed to the appropriate data field. Damien nodded. “But look at this.” Joshua dragged his finger across the page to the date-created field, which was normally left off most file displays.
“Oh yeah. I forgot about them.”
“Most do. And look, it’s only a couple of weeks old. In fact, that date next to Air Current is the date I met Ruth.”
“Ruth who?”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Joshua. “And here, next to M-Division, is the date David first made contact with me.”
“Your Fire and Ice has just printed. Here, see if that matches.”
Joshua excitedly snatched the paper. His hands were shaking. “Bingo.” These companies had been deliberately set up just before contacting him. All the information that he had been denied, the missing pieces—was this the link that tied it all together? No wonder the services wouldn’t get the information for him. They couldn’t get it. Joshua watched as the last few months of his life flashed onto the screen and onto paper. He couldn’t believe it.
Damien brought Joshua back into the world of the living. “Who is this Dom guy?
“What?”
“They were all initiated by someone called Dom. Must be Italian.”
“Dom? Where does it say that?”
“Here. See? And here and here.” Damien pointed to the accusatory information.
“Dom. Dom isn’t Italian. It’s short for Dominion.”
All the companies ran under an umbrella company called Dominion that was run by … Joshua had to guess because the records didn’t say, but he had a pretty good idea.
He turned away from the pages. With his back to the desk he tried to focus his thoughts. He had to think about this. All the top members of these companies were dead. They were all trying to deal directly with him. Why? Why didn’t they send someone further down the evolutionary tree to deal with him? Obviously it was a high-level, very high-level, issue. Why would all these companies be trying to get him involved in something that was, by ever-increasing evidence, trying to kill him? No, they were trying to kill him but someone was stopping them by killing them first.
Why was there never a drink when you wanted one?
Why was Pete posing as a barman when he was the head of a huge company? What did he have to gain by doing this? Free drinks? Surveillance? But surveillance of whom? Who went to Pete’s bar frequently? Himself? Why? What was so interesting about Joshua at the moment? What did they have that was in common? What was the link?
Perhaps these people had something to do with him. Some tie-in he couldn’t see. He laid out the facts.
They were set up and instantly went to see him about some minor issue.
They were killed at their last planned encounter with him. This meant someone knew about each meeting, a coordinator or infiltrator.
Someone had killed these people, assuming he hadn’t killed them by accident.
The only possible link was in the mother corporation, this Dominion. Someone there didn’t want something to get out. That seemed to be the only clue. So what did he have or, given the right information, could he do to this secret organization?
Why, above everything, did it sound vaguely familiar?
The thoughts screamed around his head like an out-of-control train. The possibilities were too many. He needed more information and he would have to hurry if he was to get any. The last two names were to be extinguished tonight if the past was anything to go by, and that was a thought he could not live with.
He turned back to Damien, who was happily downloading Death Kill Zombie Munch and grabbed his arm. “Look, Damien,” he hissed, “there’s something very big going on here. We’ve got to get out. You must promise never to mention a word of this to anyone.”
>
“Why? They’re just names.”
“They certainly aren’t. These are very powerful people, and if they ever, and I mean ever, find out that you know anything about these records they’ll come after you with the latest weapons and keep coming until you’re dead. Do you understand me? Go away, marry Judy, and never mention this to anyone.”
Damien looked at him in shock. “But they’re just names, aren’t they? I mean, there’s a copy of Death Kill Zombie Munch. I mean, no one really bad would have a copy of Death Kill Zombie Munch on their files,” he babbled. “Would they?”
“Yes they would, and they’re going to come and Death Kill Zombie Munch you if you don’t keep quiet about this. Now, we have to get out of here without anyone knowing and save some people who I’m pretty sure are going to die. Tonight. Don’t look so shocked. You’re not one of them.” He paused. “Probably.”
Damien packed his stuff away and they made their way cautiously to the exit.
26
THE FIRST ON THE list was Marianne, in more than one way. He ran along the dark and empty streets. It was only a few blocks to the jetty and the rendezvous time was only a few minutes away. He increased his pace. His heart pounded. He turned off Broun and made his way through the wharfs to the jetty. He saw Marianne standing at the end, just where Ruth Friday had stood. But at least Marianne was alive. He slowed.
She raised her hand and in it was a gun. She had tears flowing down her face, ruining her mascara. Her hair was plastered across her face yet she stood tall with her shoulders back. Her jacket billowed out behind her and lightning lashed from the stormy night sky. Joshua thought it was a look any supermodel would have died for.
“I’m so terribly sorry,” she said.
“Look, I’m sorry I’m late but isn’t this overreacting a bit?”
“Please forgive me, Joshua. Doing this is breaking me, but they won’t forget the betrayal. I’m so sorry.”
“What’s going on, Marianne? What betrayal? Why are you associated with Na’hash, Reaper, Friday, all of them?”