Palm Sunday

by William R. Vitanyi Jr.

  Slocum alternated his attention between what he was doing and the dozing sentry. The driver’s door was locked, which was only a minor obstacle for Slocum. He quickly had it open, and released the hood. The faint click as the latch disengaged was insufficient to rouse the guard. Slocum went to the front of the car and raised the hood about two feet, clicked on his flashlight, and played it over the engine until he found the ignition control module. He gently pulled the top half of the module away from the base. Although it appeared to be completely intact, the electrical connection inside the module was now broken, which would prevent the electronic ignition from working. Unless the car’s owner was a mechanic, and a pretty good one, this car wasn’t going anywhere–except behind a tow truck.

  He closed the hood as quietly as he could, but it still made a small noise. This time the guard sat up straight and looked around. But Slocum had already ducked behind the car, and after waiting a few minutes for the guard to settle back down, he retraced his steps across the parking lot. Five minutes later he was back in Katherine’s car and headed for the apartment. Now the real work would begin.

  ***

  When Slocum got back to the apartment it was almost six o’clock. Everyone looked up as he walked in the door.

  “Well?” asked Kayoko.

  “No problem. A security guard at the apartment complex slowed me down.”

  “He saw you?”

  “No, nothing like that,” said Slocum. “I just had to take my time getting around him. Both cars are set.” He looked at Stanley. “Are you guys ready?”

  “We’re ready.”

  Slocum nodded. “Good. The truck has two dollies in it–one regular sized, and one for heavier equipment. Once we get in your building, we’ll take both of them up together, but we’ll work on the big computer first. Then the workstations. And don’t forget any software that you might need, and cables, or whatever else. We won’t be invited back a second time.”

  “We understand,” said Stanley.

  Slocum continued. “If we get in by seven, we should be out by seven fifty. That’s our deadline. Are we all clear?” Everyone nodded, but they looked tired and worried. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he said.

  “Okay, Robert. We trust you,” said Katherine. She smiled at the former implementer.

  “Good. Then let’s grab some computers.”

  ***

  Stanley and Katherine rode in Katherine’s car, while Slocum drove the stolen truck behind them. At precisely five minutes before seven they pulled into ScanDat’s parking lot. Slocum drove the truck right up to the main entrance. He had insisted that they take this approach; he claimed it would arouse less suspicion than if they tried to use an obscure side entrance. He parked the truck close enough to easily load, but not blocking anyone who might want to get into the building. Stanley parked Katherine’s car in a regular spot, and the three met at the truck.

  “You two go first,” said Slocum, “and I’ll bring up the rear with my clipboard and dollies. Just act natural.”

  Slocum opened the back of the truck, pulled down the metal ramp, and retrieved the two dollies, placing the smaller of the two on top of the other. They walked up to the front door, and Stanley went in, while Katherine held the door for Slocum. The security guard looked up at the unexpected arrival.

  “Hey, Stanley. You’re here early. What’s up with the truck?”

  “We’re replacing some equipment,” said Stanley. “Out with the old, in with the new. Klugman wants everything up and running before noon.”

  “He’s a slave driver,” said the guard.

  Stanley nodded in agreement. “Anyway, we’ll be up and down a few times. Do you mind if we keep the truck where it’s at?”

  The guard leaned over to get a better look. “You can even bring it closer if you want. No one’s going to be around for a while.”

  “It’s fine there,” said Stanley. “I just didn’t want to get in anyone’s way.”

  “No problem.” As the three headed for the elevator, the guard saw the paper in Slocum’s hand. He motioned to him. “Hey.”

  Slocum looked at him, obviously bored, and not yet fully awake. “Yeah?”

  “Is that your authorization?”

  Stanley and Katherine exchanged glances as Slocum switched his grip on the dolly and offered the document. At the last moment the guard changed his mind.

  “Eh, that’s okay. If you’re with Stanley I’m sure everything’s in order.”

  Slocum shrugged his shoulders and continued on his way. Several minutes later the trio was alone in ScanDat’s computer room.

  Stanley sat down in front of the main console. “It will take a few minutes to shut everything down,” he said.

  This surprised Slocum. “Shut it down? You didn’t mention anything about that.”

  “We can’t just pull the plug. There’s a procedure we have to run that closes any open files, prevents the disks from crashing, and so forth.”

  Slocum looked at his watch. “How long?”

  “Not too long,” said Stanley. “We aren’t going to do a full backup; just secure the system.”

  Slocum was getting impatient. He didn’t like surprises. “Whatever. Just make it quick.” He looked around. “Is there anything I can start loading?”

  Stanley looked at Katherine. “While I get started here, you guys work on our PCs. Make sure you grab Boyd’s while you’re at it.” He gestured for Slocum to follow Katherine.

  While they started disconnecting the workstations, Stanley logged onto the Alpha. It had completed the previous night’s backups, and now waited for someone to bring up the production database. As a security precaution, this was never done automatically. Usually he considered it a pain to wait for it to come up every morning, but now Stanley was glad he wouldn’t have to wait for it to shut down.

  It took longer than expected to finish running his processes. Slocum and Katherine scurried around the entire time.

  “First batch loaded,” said Slocum. “How’s the Alpha?” Slocum had pushed the big dolly next to the main computer.

  “Two minutes,” said Stanley. “You might as well wait.”

  Slocum looked at Katherine. “Cables? Software?”

  “I’m on it.” She wheeled away her smaller dolly, in search of lighter items.

  Stanley watched his display. “Okay, this is it. Re-org complete; root directory secured. The system is down.” He rolled his chair away from the console and opened the front panel of the cabinet that housed the Alpha’s control devices. He quickly detached half a dozen cables, bundling them up in a pile on a nearby table, and then walked to the back of the three-foot high computer. He reached down and unplugged it. “You should be able to pull it out now.”

  Slocum bent over and grabbed hold of the squat, but powerful computer. It easily rolled out on its wheels. “Let’s get it on the dolly,” he said.

  Together Stanley and Slocum lifted the heavy machine onto the four-wheeled cart. Stanley stood up and rubbed his lower back. “I wish we could have just pushed it, but those small wheels would never make it across the carpet. We had the same problem when we first brought it in here.”

  “This should be the last trip,” said Slocum. “Throw anything else you need on top, or carry it down.”

  Stanley did a final inventory, picking up various odds and ends, and was about to leave when he suddenly remembered something. “Just a minute.” He ran to his cubicle and pulled a drawer completely out. Taped to the underside of the desk, in back of where the drawer had been, was Slocum’s palmtop. Stanley pulled it out and put it in his pocket. “Now I’m ready.”

  Slocum looked at him in surprise. “You’re a card, Whipple.”

  ***

  Slocum’s automotive foray of earlier in the day had the desired effect. Klugman, exhausted from constantly waking up, had overslept. Then his car sputtered, and died, and he was ready to do serious harm to someone. Anyone. It took him two hours to get the Audi towed to a garage
.

  Boyd, on the other hand, simply called in sick, reasoning that his car was the closest thing to a family that he had, and it needed immediate diagnostic treatment. It was tongue in cheek, but he didn’t care. Burnout was taking a toll.

  By the time Klugman arrived at work it was almost eleven o’clock. When he saw the state of the computer center he immediately called Boyd, Katherine and Stanley, but only Boyd responded. They stood in quiet astonishment, staring at the empty space where the computer equipment had been the day before. Klugman was perplexed.

  “Where’s Stanley and Katherine? They should be here by now.”

  Boyd picked up a phone. “I’ll check with security. You want me to report this to them, or call the police?”

  “Both,” said Klugman. “No, wait. Let me think about this.” He paused for a moment. “Call security and see if Stanley or Katherine called in or stopped by. Something may have happened to them.”

  Boyd nodded and dialed.

  “Security,” said a voice on the other end.

  “This is Boyd Sanders, from ScanDat.”

  “Hi, Boyd. What can I do ya for?”

  “Have you seen Stanley Whipple or Katherine Ritaglio, by any chance?”

  “No,” said the guard. “I haven’t. Not since this morning when they moved your equipment out.”

  “They what?”

  “Yeah, they took quite a load. I guess you guys are doing a complete techno-makeover, huh?” The guard laughed at his own witticism.

  “Yeah, something like that. Good bye.” Boyd hung up without waiting for an answer. He stared at the phone until Klugman impatiently prodded him.

  “Well?”

  “It was them,” said Boyd.

  “It was who? What are you talking about?”

  “Stanley and Katherine. They took the equipment.”

  Klugman shook his head. “You’re crazy. What makes you think it was them?”

  “The guard said he saw them moving a bunch of stuff out this morning.”

  Klugman wasn’t buying it. “That can’t be right. Why would they do that?”

  “Beats me.” Boyd looked around. “So what are we going to do?”

  “Maybe we can replace the equipment,” said Klugman.

  “The disk arrays are still here. If you can get us another Alpha I might be able to make it work. But without Stanley and Katherine, the project is in trouble.”

  Klugman smiled. “One crisis at a time, Boyd. That’s the secret to living on the edge.”

  Boyd nodded. “Then get us that Alpha.”

  ***

  The equipment was inside the apartment by nine o’clock. Afterwards, Slocum drove the truck to a distant mall parking lot, and simply left it. Stanley followed in Katherine’s car and the two returned to the apartment.

  “Now I need a hot shower and some sleep,” said Slocum. He didn’t wait for a reply.

  Katherine looked at Stanley. “We should get the system on line as soon as possible, but only if you feel up to it,” she said.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” said Stanley. “A little tired from being up all night, but relieved that it went so well.”

  Katherine nodded. She was exhausted. “I can’t imagine what Klugman must be thinking.”

  “The word ‘apoplectic’ comes to mind,” said Stanley.

  “I feel guilty about this. They trusted us.”

  “I know what you mean, but we both know it was necessary.”

  “We’ll make it up to them,” said Katherine. “Somehow.”

  “Someday,” agreed Stanley.

  Kayoko walked into the living room holding a cup of coffee. “Fresh coffee if anyone’s interested.”

  “Yes,” said Stanley. “If we’re going to re-initialize the Alpha, I’m going to need some go juice.”

  Katherine declined. “Not me. I’ve already had too much. I’m giving it up.” She said this at least three times a month.

  Stanley went to the kitchen for coffee, and then joined Katherine next to the Alpha. The corner of the living room was the designated computer center, so they parked the Alpha against the wall. Next, they set up the main console. The cabling was run between the controllers and the main processors, and the unit plugged in.

  “We can turn it on any time now,” said Stanley, though he made no move to do so.

  “So what are you waiting for?” Katherine stood next to him, unsure why he hesitated.

  Stanley shrugged. “Somehow it feels like once we activate it, we’ve crossed the line.”

  Kayoko stood behind them. “Stanley, I have an alert for you,” she said. “The line was crossed when you wheeled that thing out of ScanDat’s office.”

  Katherine looked at her. “Actually, Kayoko, the line was crossed when that agency of yours started messing with peoples’ lives.”

  Kayoko was taken aback. “Wait a minute. You may have noticed that I’m here with you, not back at the agency. And who was it that helped Stanley and Bobby and Slocum get away from the agency?”

  Katherine softened. “Yes, that was you. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just frazzled.”

  Kayoko smiled. “That’s okay. We’re all under a lot of pressure. Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll keep Stanley company.”

  Katherine nodded gratefully. She was really bushed. “Yeah, okay. Wake me up in a couple hours?” Kayoko nodded, and Katherine went to lie down.

  Stanley threw the switch, bringing the Alpha to life. He sat in front of the console, with Kayoko looking over his shoulder. He was wide-awake now, his attention focused on the display.

  “Okay, baby–show Papa what you can do.”

  ***

  Norbert knocked on Mason’s closed office door.

  “Come in.”

  When Norbert pushed the door open, the first thing he saw was Mason leaning back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head, staring at the ceiling. For several moments neither spoke. Finally Mason broke the silence.

  “Simplicity is a virtue, Norbert. True or false?”

  “Simplicity?”

  “Come on, now, no stalling,” said Mason. “What’s your answer?”

  Norbert nervously shifted his weight. “I suppose in certain circumstances it has its benefits, and at other times a more complex model is called for.” Norbert watched as Mason continued staring at the ceiling. It seemed as though he hadn’t heard. He was about to say something when Mason responded.

  “A more complex model…” he repeated the words as if pondering a profound revelation. “A more complex model…” He suddenly lurched forward, his chair now in its normal position. He stared hard at Norbert. “You could be onto something there, kid. Something big.”

  “Uh, thank you, sir.” He hesitated a moment, then continued. “The reason I’m here is I wanted you to know that the program is complete. Also, I have a counter-program, an antidote, in case Pascua gets away from us.”

  “You mean if it infected our own system?”

  “That, yes, or if it got into a system where we didn’t want it to be.”

  “Talk about your complex models,” said Mason.

  “Yes. The program we now have at our disposal is nasty. I wouldn’t want to be in charge of the system it was used against.”

  Mason leaned back. “Norbert–remember when we shut down the FBI’s data center?”

  “Of course.”

  “You said that they would have developed a filter of some kind. That was why it would be difficult to use the same technique a second time.”

  Norbert smiled. “I’m impressed, sir; you remembered. Yes, it’s true. It probably wouldn’t work a second time.”

  “What about Pascua?”

  Norbert didn’t hesitate at all. “That’s different. It would work.”

  “What if we used it once, then tried to use it a second time?”

  “First of all, if it was run once, they wouldn’t have a system left to worry about. Of course, they could rebuild from whatever backups they had, but unless they did a very thorou
gh housecleaning, our little bug would be waiting to do it again.”

  Mason persisted. “But what if they did get back up; could we re-infect their system using the same program?”

  “In the short term, even against a well-equipped facility like the Bureau–probably. Their first efforts would be directed at diagnosing the problem. Until they developed countermeasures we would be able to hit them again and again.”

  “What about the long term?”

  “For a typical organization it would be devastating,” said Norbert. “Not only would they have to struggle to get their system back up, but they’d have to wait for someone to develop a fix.”

  “How long that would take?”

  “I don’t know. I was able to do it in a relatively short time because I have all the specs on Pascua.”

  Mason’s next statement took Norbert by surprise. “We need to test it; a real life test. Can it be run from any PC?”

  “It could, but it would have to be installed first, and the security protocols would have to be enabled. We’d have to monitor it very carefully.” Norbert was troubled. “But we shouldn’t do what you’re suggesting.”

  Mason wasn’t listening. “I want all copies of Pascua transferred to my private account, including source code, documentation, and the antidote.”

  Norbert was crushed. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “This isn’t about trust, Norbert. If that was the case I never would have given you the project.”

  “Then what’s up?”

  Mason leaned forward. “This program, or virus, or whatever you want to call it–I think of it as a last ditch defensive weapon–has to be under management control. I see it as the equivalent of our nuclear forces being under the control of a civilian authority.”

  “I see,” said Norbert. He didn’t, really.