by James Cox
He headed for the terminal and cores while Micah searched the rest of the apartment. By the look of it Robin left recently and planned to return soon. Micah had a single spider planted when he heard Ferrel swear from the other room.
"Remote spike," said Ferrel, "She won't be back, Micah. She just script-burned the CA by remote. I don't mean she tapped them, either. I barely caught the last of it before the machine started a thermal purge!"
Micah and Ferrel left instantly and none too soon! Several residents saw them but no help for it. They could change appearance easily and needed to do so quickly. They'd barely gone a block when the CA hovers converged on the building and began searching the area around it. The two of them faded into the terrain and after a harrowing half-hour rat path Micah deemed their backtrail clear. They did indeed change faces, again, and headed back to their apartment.
"Fact," said Micah, "she got rid of us like yesterday's nibblers. Fact: in so doing she burned the CA, remotely, with incredible skill and accuracy. Fact: she spiked her cores before you could access them. Fact: upon our discovery of her lair she very nearly pulled that selfsame CA down upon our dainty necks."
"Agreed on the first three," said Ferrel, "but the fourth might have been coincidence. I don't know for truth that she knew we were there."
"Conceded," said Micah, "Mark that one as testable. Any luck with the financial traces?"
Ferrel shook his head. "She's plus-plus sharp, my brother. She's routing through several sinks before accessing anything, not siphoning off much and continuing the cycle through a very complex transfer web. For truth, that might just be a distraction. Or misdirection."
"Slib." Micah chewed on his thoughts. "Anything new on the attacks against our sites?"
"A treasure ship of platinum, my brother." Absent for too long, Ferrel's grin returned with backup.
"So what do we have and do we still need to concern ourselves with Robin?"
"Just judging by what we know for truth," said Ferrel, "I have cracked their cargo splitting and reconstitution algorithm. It's almost like sewer-swishing but with internal paperwork. As to the latter, my brother, yes we do. It may be coincidence that our sites were attacked the very evening she left. I choose to believe otherwise. I also believe, call it four sigmas, that the narstiest series of attacks originated with Rugger."
"Polar," said Micah, "Two for one?"
Ferrel nodded and his grin turned predatory.
***
Robin settled in for the evening with a nice cup of tea and the holovee set to local news. Her rooms, half a house rented from an older couple, overlooked Tolgos' Bridge's main attraction and link to the outside world. And its transit station. The town itself was a lot smaller than St. Gore-Wharton and its residents liked it that way. It didn't have many datamarts but Robin didn't need many. What she needed was eyes and friends.
It didn't take her long to establish a routine. She touted herself a data consultant and after she repaired a few terminals and set up a centralized site server for some of the small businesses around the main circle people accepted her as such. Robin herself mostly monitored newsfeeds. She did some work on her way to Tolgos' Bridge and before long evidence started surfacing.
Kelle Halley became a rumor of a scandal, albeit tightly suppressed. Her name and rets popped up in several places around Major. The unicreds she allegedly swindled appeared in her supervisor's account. Minus a few thousand she managed to tap for herself. So said rumor. Then her rets appeared outside of Major. The CA wanted her but couldn't seem to find her. So said the rumors. Frightened, alone and friendless Halley's path led, circuitously, toward her home town.
Within a week of Halley's 'escape' from Major Robin noticed an increase in traffic to Tolgos' Bridge. The local CA office and the smallest she'd yet seen doubled its number of hovers overnight. Other folk who claimed to be tourists filled the hotels, motels and boarding houses. Robin didn't know nor particularly care how the locals would handle questions about the fictitious Halley. Her bait was set.
She did fret over surveillance. To purchase what she wanted would require her CA-accessed authorization and she didn't trust it. Fortunately she did score a treasure ship in the form of a box of well-outdated PRIS chips, blocks and bricks. She had a three-hour layover on her way to Tolgos' Bridge; at first she fumed over it but after she found the dusty carton in a dustier software boutique she revised her feelings.
Building image traps now only required small cameras which she had aplenty. Only six of the PRIS chips and blocks had enough memory and processor for the software, though, so she had to pick those locations carefully. The rest she simply programmed to record images and transmit them.
For a very reasonable fee, at Robin's insistence, the man who owned the datamart at the transit station reserved Robin a booth in the corner. His name was Lee Caulder and he had chog brewed when Robin showed up each morning. Under guise of inspecting his cabling for breaks she managed to tap into the station's security 'casters.
Slowly, slowly her image collection grew. She also took occasional walks around the town surreptitiously taking holos of the people there. As yet she hadn't seen Everett, Robert or Carl but patience! She was in no hurry at all.
***
Ferrel terminated his connection and swore. Foully, as he did when thwarted. He and Micah had multiple backup plans for dealing with Robin, genuine or enemy, but most of them hinged on her being present or at least accessible.
"Hindsight, brother," said Micah.
"Truth and pure, if not a comfort. I have a seventy on one of our missing packages."
Micah looked at the terminal. "Three relabels and it's just now surfacing? I wonder what's in it."
"Not just relabels," said Ferrel, "I'm at least thirty-seven-five that it was split from a larger crate. That makes it even more interesting."
"Is it legal all the way?"
"Six-sigmas solid. It's also definitely light in the inspection department." Ferrel scrolled down the data. "It's scheduled for shipment tomorrow. To a Rugger warehouse."
Micah nodded. By his and Ferrel's theory Vinsley's illegal goods changed boxes and labels mostly in Rugger facilities. As yet they had insufficient evidence to prove either way but they also had more than a few crates full of less than legal goods, all taken from the cargo Vinsley shipped from Echo Bend.
***
Outside a nondescript warehouse in the commercial part of town a security guard dutifully walked his perimeter.
"Feces!" The guard swore suddenly and grabbed at his ear. He pulled out the comm and its volume increased when he did.
"You say something, Fred?" Another man's head popped out of the guardroom.
"Yeah, Jake. Hellfrosted comm's squawking again. Bloody near took out my eardrum this time."
"Phase down and toss it here," said Jake, "Not the first one that's blown tonight. Must be something exciting in one of those boxes. Whatever it is it's torquing up the externals, too. Hope they ship it away soon."
"No blather there." Fred took out a 'stick. "I'm gonna check the loading docks. Have it ready when I'm back?"
"Plus-plus."
After Fred left and before the door could close a swatch of darkness detached itself and entered the building. By the time Fred turned toward the loading docks another patch of darkness entered the building.
Micah and Ferrel moved quickly. They didn't have a lot of time but neither did they want to botch the job. Within two minutes Ferrel located the security monitors he compromised earlier. None reported anything out of the ordinary but Micah wanted certainty. Now he had them totally owned and reprogrammed.
As Ferrel worked Micah began searching. Before long they both did, each careful to avoid Fred when he passed close. They knew within broad tolerances what they wanted but not where. By Fred's fourth patrol Micah found what they sought.
A shadow followed Fred to Micah's position. When the bored guard passed Micah pointed Ferrel to the crates. Ferrel hooked a dex into his datapad an
d before long they had newly-scribed routing label patches. Micah placed them carefully over the ones there.
***
"Far too easy," said Ferrel over nibblers.
"If it works," said Micah, "It might still misroute."
Ferrel waved his hand dismissively. "Might isn't. Eighth Rule of Information, my brother. As soon as they begin their daily duties tomorrow their system will crash beyond belief. With the warehouse in such chaos they'll be doing well to get the deliveries out, much less verify the addresses. By the time they repair my damage their precious cargo will be truly vanished and gone."
Micah forbore argument in favor of sleep. Ferrel puttered on his terminal a bit longer before deciding likewise.
The next day Micah and Ferrel, attired as common laborers, waited to receive their shipment. When the cargo hover arrived, late, they set about moving the boxes into their rented storage unit. After offloading his cargo the hover's driver confessed to massive confusion at his warehouse, gratefully accepted a tube of chog and left in a better mood.
As soon as the delivery hover turned the corner Ferrel pulled their hover up to the bay and he and Micah loaded the boxes they'd just stolen. Not long afterward they had them in long-term storage along with the other of Vinsley's goods they managed to acquire.
"Well?"
"Patience, my brother." Ferrel swore much less after a successful op. "I am certain they've discovered the thefts. I'm trying to deduce what they plan to do with that information and that is no stroll through a slow link."
Less patient at monitoring datafeeds, Micah moved to the middle of the room and began working through some combat routines. This operation whetted his appetite and he mentioned some possibilities to Ferrel.
"What about Robin," asked Micah.
"I have plans for her. She'll know we trap anything we do and will suspect it of her. If she's half as good as she really is she'll spot most of them. I do have some stealthed and ICE'd surprises she hasn't seen and a few other... interesting things... attached to the stuff she helped us find."
"What about some more hijacks?"
"Again patience, Micah. I want to do as much as I can, all within a small window. Tweak their noses. Then steal their data out from under them. Even if Robin keeps her temper I'm wagering her bosses won't!"
***
Robin carefully updated, encrypted and chipped her latest dataset. She now had images of over two hundred townsfolk and at least seventy tourists. None of them resembled anyone who interested her but she kept them anyway. She also had a deadswitch trigger that would send a message to Robert's server and sites if she didn't reset it every day. She wanted to send the message herself, just after she drew Everett into her trap.
The AI routine hooked into the station monitors beeped. A chill swept through her as she looked at the image it tagged. Possibly... She isolated the image trap's last minute of recorded activity and advanced it slowly. There! She zoomed in as closely as she could without losing too much resolution.
She enhanced the image as carefully as she could. She deleted the others around him and centered the high-probability zone where it would do the most good. The enhancement faded slowly into place.
Robin lit a 'stick. He didn't look the same as before but her routines relied on more than surface appearance. Everett! Here!
"Steady, girl." She took a deep breath. "He doesn't know you're here. He hasn't seen you. He just arrived. You have his image. He can't trace you. There aren't many places for him to go."
Robin felt elation warring with terror. Everett was here and soon Robert and Carl would be too. She did it!
Robin composed her message carefully. After disguising herself thoroughly she took a walk. She spotted Everett and a trio of men outside Tolgos' Bridge's finest hotel. Hardly a surprise, she checked it first. She carefully holocast the four men and made her way back to her rooms. Once there behind locked doors she collapsed in a chair and shook uncontrollably a while. It shamed her that Everett could still terrify her but that would soon end!
"Almost there, girl."
The terminal beeped. Message sent. She smiled and took a sip of tea.
Then choked on it as the message returned.
"No!"
She powered up her hottest terminal and sent a query. Nothing! She sent several more in rapid succession. Still nothing! All of Robert's sites, including the music server, were gone. She tried the sites she hijacked and armored for them. Gone! The sites responded but all her work had vanished. Finally she checked their house server.
Their former house server, apparently. By what she could find Robert and Carl left the place not many days after she did.
A column of ice froze Robin's spine. She'd counted on having Robert and Carl, especially Carl, present to take care of Everett. Now... Now...
"Now I leave," she said, voice weak and shaky, "I've done what I can. I don't have any backup. I can't take him by myself. I... It's time to leave!"
She started to do just that but stopped herself. She could leave now, true, but she could leave better after nightfall and some careful planning. Len Clayson, a farmer who lived far out of town, would gladly give her a long ride. She customized an accounting system for their business and Len and his entire family were grateful for it. A quick call to Len secured not only the ride but some of his wife's excellent cooking for the trip. Polarity!
With that plan in place Robin worked beyond it. She duplicated her critical data, packed it securely for a long trip and addressed the package to Robert and Carl as Ralph and Jake. She would post it for signed delivery so it would go into indefinite storage when delivery failed. She gathered her spools, chips and other equipment she planned to take with her. She had money. She had clothes.
The postmaster at the transit station accepted the package with a smile, stamped it and took it into the back. He handed her the receipt and wished her a good evening. Robin walked to a public comm terminal and fed it some money. Refuge's most popular newsmod wanted an obscene price for short ads but she paid gladly.
'Dear Robert and Carl:
'I loved the time we spent here and I'm sorry about what came between us. I'll never forget SS, the dances we had and the play we saw there. I wrote you a letter and I hope you get it. I saw an old friend in Tolgos' Bridge but we didn't have a chance to chat.
'I'm going home now. Tracy G.
Robin read the text carefully. She didn't think anyone but Robert or Carl would understand it. Perhaps they'd see it, perhaps not. Either way it was time for her to leave. A quick call confirmed that Len would be outside the station shortly. Robin gathered her things and walked that way.
She hadn't walked half a block when the world exploded behind her.
***
A harsh, regular thunder woke Robin. Her entire body felt strange. Loose. Like a winter coat two sizes too big. Not totally connected to her. She tried to move her arms and after a thousand pinpricks of pain they finally obeyed. The thunder turned into blood pounding in her ears.
Robin tried to open her eyes and a few seconds later both did. A good sign. She lay crumpled against a building. A building not far from the transit station, in fact. When she finally managed to focus her eyes she wished she hadn't. The piles of rubble that had been the transit station filled most of her vision. The far end had collapsed completely and flame and smoke billowed through the remnants. People milled about, some screaming, some helping, some merely wandering.
After an exhausting effort Robin managed to sit up. Her arms and legs still hurt, as did most of her body, but none took as long to obey her now. She tried to stand up but changed her mind quickly. Not a good idea. CA hovers and Tolgos' Bridge's few medical workers finally began to arrive. Robin knew she should hail them but right now just sitting and breathing felt too good.
After a few eternity-sized minutes the chaos finally began organizing itself. Robin decided she was mostly shaken and possibly a little burned, but overall she was good. The raging fire tried to bring up th
oughts and memories but she had no time for them now.
"Hey, signora. Are you all right?"
Robin tried to focus on the voice. After some time and effort she traced it to its owner. It sounded mushy and indistinct; the man really should speak more clearly.
"I'm polar. Just shaken," said Robin. Well, at least she understood what she said.
Before Robin could reassert her wellness the stranger had one of her arms over his shoulder. He was handsome, she thought. And strong! He lifted her as easily as he would a child. When she finally tore her eyes away from him she saw a hovervan ahead of them. One man was already there getting his ribs taped and braced.
"Heaven's flames!" The man ministering to the injured man looked at Robin. "Lay her down here. Now. Now!"
Robin's world shifted and she saw the hovervan's ceiling above her. The medic extruded into her field of view. He was, she decided, more handsome than the last man.
"Thank heaven," said the medic, "Not nearly as bad as it could have been." He smiled. "Don't worry, Robin. We'll have you fixed in no time at all."
She smiled muzzily up at him. Definitely more handsome. She felt the prick of a hypo. Something about what the medic said puzzled her but she surrendered it to the warm darkness enfolding her.
Chapter 12. Old Friends, New Enemies
The weak-chinned man paced the room. Slowly and deliberately. Eight steps, turn. Eight steps, turn. The burner sat at a table bereft of nibblers and soda and watched. Neither spoke.
"We'll find them," said the burner finally.
The other nodded, not stopping his pacing. Anger iced each step. Almost never had any quarry slipped his grasp twice. Twice! His plans might take time to develop but when he closed his fist he brought it back full.
The door whooshed open and two men entered with a large box.
"This was all we could find sir," said one as they dumped the box.
The burner examined the detritus eagerly. Tattered and burned clothes. A handful of dataspools and chips, some of them charred. The shattered remnants of a terminal. Bits and pieces of twisted metal and plastic that could come from any of the thousand things present in any home. He gathered the spools and chips.