Terminal Connection

by Needles, Dan

  5

  Austin looked up from the news article Steve had thrown at him. “Now calm down, son. I already know about this situation and have a plan …”

  “You know?” Steve jabbed a finger into Austin’s chest. “You told me that you installed the fixed hardware. This should not have happened! That was my daughter’s best friend! I’ll recall the Nexus even if it bankrupts us!”

  “Now what the devil are you talking about?” Austin turned to Ron, who had left and was halfway across the lobby.

  Austin grinned. He took a casual puff from his virtual cigar. “Smart boy. He knows when to leave.” He placed a hand on Steve’s back and extended his other arm toward the back of the room. “Step into my office.”

  Steve led the way through the scarred lobby and down the hall. Austin’s office was a simple, ten-foot square, glacier-white room with a mahogany desk, matching file cabinet, and bookcase. It was a secure location; the Nexus server only allowed two connections into the room.

  Once inside, Austin said, “Computer, Phantom of the Opera, Act One, private booth.”

  The room transformed around them. Mahogany paneling grew across the walls of the office, while the room’s white carpeting flushed to a deep red. The office furniture disappeared, replaced by a row of six chairs that faced away from them. The back wall in front of the chairs melted away and transformed into a railing overlooking a stage. An old recording of the opera played. Music filled the room and the air grew thick with the scent of cigar smoke, musty wool, and aging leather.

  Austin walked around the row of chairs and sat on the end. He patted the seat next to him. “Come on over here and sit down. The Phantom here rates among the finest of the theatrical arts. Do you know the story? You could learn a lot from this—a hell of a lot. The Phantom himself was a brilliant metaphor, the shadow of excellence.”

  Steve walked over, leaned against the railing, and faced Austin with his back to the stage. “Austin.”

  “Shh! First enjoy. Where are your manners? Sit.”

  “I don’t have time to play these games with you,” Steve said.

  Austin smiled and took another drag on his cigar. “Son, why don’t you take a seat and calm down. Don’t be so dramatic. You’re just an engineer in CEO clothing. You don’t have the stomach for it. Like I said, I have a plan to take care of this without a recall.”

  “You’ll take care of it? Last year I told you to install the fixed hardware, but you didn’t. Now it looks like your friends at DARPA missed your omission and someone is dead because of it!” Steve regretted hiring Austin, but he needed his connections into the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency.

  In the 1960s, DARPA had tried to create a military communication network that could survive a localized nuclear holocaust. Soon DARPA opened this network up and enabled first the scientific and later the private sector to join. The Internet was born.

  DARPA bowed out as the Internet regulator, but with the advent of VR and globalization, society had a change of heart. In the wake of tainted products and quality control issues, DARPA took back regulatory control in the United States and approval of Internet-based products. Austin had the connections to grease the certification process.

  Indeed, DARPA took less than four months to certify the Nexus. This saved Steve’s company from bankruptcy; but at what cost? Steve shook his head. He had done it all for Brooke. With the company taken care of, he had focused on the Nexus Healer, a device that would enable her to walk again after the accident had left her partially paralyzed and her mother dead. Just five more days and he would announce the Nexus Healer’s beta trials and surprise Brooke. She would walk again. Steve woke from his musing. Austin had turned back to the stage.

  “Damn it, Austin! What have you done?”

  “What have I done?” From his pocket, Austin extracted a piece of paper. He unfolded it and handed it to Steve.

  Memo

  During performance testing Nexus Corporation discovered that the Nexus’s Signal Amplifier, which relays and amplifies signals to and from the brain, could direct an intense, prolonged signal, causing a severe seizure. In rare cases, users could die from cardiac arrest.

  There are two possible solutions: repair the defective hardware with a patch in the software or completely replace the defective amplifier. Although the software solution is not completely effective, it is 16.2 million dollars cheaper than the hardware solution even factoring in the expected wrongful death lawsuits.

  After careful consideration, Nexus Corporation has decided to implement the software solution. This alternative is the more cost effective of the two. It will preserve the company’s viability while providing adequate protection to the customer with a negligible loss of life.

  Sincerely,

  Steve Donovan

  Austin Wheeler

  Steve looked up. “I didn’t sign this. Where’s the other memo?”

  Austin closed his eyes, enthralled by the music as it crescendoed. “Now, that’s art at its best, a fine blend of music, acting, and drama.”

  “Damn it, Austin! Where is it?”

  “It was on the disk array that went bad.”

  Steve shook his head. “I never signed this!”

  “I am afraid you did. That is your signature. You signed it along with a stack of other papers five months ago.”

  Steve took a step toward him.

  “Now, calm down. I didn’t want to deceive you, but it was the software solution or nothing at all. The company was broke.”

  “You can’t blackmail me! Your name is on this memo, too!”

  “No one is threatening you. This is just my insurance card. I’m in the same riverboat as you. I, too, am an accessory to murder.” Austin leaned back and blew out a puff of smoke.

  Steve shook his head. He should have known that Austin would pull something like this. He should have trusted his instincts and fired him a year ago; but the accident had left him in a fog, unable to make the necessary decisions. Austin had saved the company and given him the opportunity to focus on development of the Nexus Healer.

  The corners of Austin’s lips curled into a smirk. “One dead girl after only two million units? When production goes full scale, we’ll be buried by wrongful death lawsuits. As I see it you have two choices—patch your patch, or go into the corpse business.”

  “Fuck you, Austin; I’m going to DARPA!”

  “Really?” Austin took a puff from his cigar. “Son, what makes you think they don’t already know?”

  Steve frowned.

  “Oh, come on Steve.” Austin laughed. “Think about it. How do you think I got the Nexus approved in four months instead of two years? Last year I went straight to Ed Davis, the new Assistant Secretary of Defense that oversees DARPA. I gave him the Nexus schematics in exchange for immediate Nexus approval and some funds to keep us afloat. All in all it was what you’d call a win-win situation, a daisy of a deal.”

  Austin took another puff from his cigar and blew out three perfect circles of smoke. He grinned. “Now son, it’s true I don’t know exactly what Ed uses the Nexus for, but I believe his motives to be of a trustworthy nature. He will keep quiet about the defect and so will you. If something does slip, that memo will make you the perfect scapegoat for the lot of us—you being the CEO, inventor, and all. There’s no way out for you. I’m afraid you have to play by my rules now, son.”

  “I’ll tell you what.” Steve walked past Austin toward the exit. “You do what you have to do, and I’ll do what I have to do.”

  “Let me guess. You’re going to the media?”

  Steve kept walking as the music from the stage escalated.

  Austin raised his voice above the music. “Do you think that’ll clear your conscience, son? Like I said, the girl is dead after only two million sales. What will happen in another year? How many deaths will it take before you act? DARPA won’t act; they have too much at stake.”

  “Austin, I’m not going to jump through your hoops,” Stev
e said. He opened the door.

  Austin remained in his seat. “I am quite serious here. Now, you know there’s no one else who can fix this problem. The Nexus Transporter is too complex. No one understands her like you do. As I see it, if you enable DARPA to handle this mess, your inaction will cause hundreds, perhaps thousands of deaths. Use that peevish little brain of yours. If you think about it long enough, you’ll see that I’m right.”

  Steve stopped. The music dipped and the melody became soft. Austin was right. The Nexus consisted of multiple sensors, emitters, and a very sophisticated computer. The computer was highly parallel and massively integrated, containing many synchronized processors. It ran over one hundred programs, each of which served a specific function for the Nexus, much like each organ serves a particular function in the human body. The complexity of each program was dwarfed by the complexity of their shared interactions. Only he and perhaps a few of Austin’s Chinese associates understood the machine.

  “Besides, if this becomes public news I’m sure they’ll lock you up, so you can just forget about the announcement this next Monday. Brooke will just have to wait until you get out of jail before she walks again. As I said before, I do have a plan.”

  Steve turned.

  Austin remained sitting, facing the stage with his back to Steve. His finger danced in the air with the tempo of the music.

  “What is it?” Steve asked.

  “Come over here where I can see you, son.”

  Steve returned.

  “I’m surprised. I expected more of a fight from you, but then you always were a bright kid.”

  “Actually, Austin, it’s called integrity—something you might want to look into.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you’d like that.”

  Steve stood between Austin and the stage and leaned against the railing.

  Austin strained to look around Steve. “Now that’s just rude, son.”

  Steve said nothing.

  “You will investigate this death, covertly. Then, once you find the software problem, you will create a new patch and transmit it to every Nexus through the Internet. I’ve also had Ron create an open expense account for you with the Swiss Bank Verwaltungen. They specialize in discreet arrangements such as these. There will be no ties or transactions traceable back to the company.”

  The organ bellowed as the current act of the play reached its climax.

  Austin sighed. “It’s a shame that you don’t appreciate the finer things. We’re missing the best part.”

  Steve shrugged.

  Austin leaned forward in his chair. “One of the Chinese associates, a Miss Allison Hwang, will assist you.”

  “She’ll slow me …”

  Austin waved his hand by way of interruption. “I’m afraid you have no choice. She’s connected with Ed Davis. She’s my insurance that you won’t miss anything else. Miss Hwang will meet you in the lobby in ten minutes. As you already stated, your corrective software patch took the life of Camille Anderson.”

  Austin extracted an envelope from his suit pocket and handed it to Steve. “That file contains the information that Allison has collected on Camille.”

  The file was lavishly stamped and embossed with Austin’s gaudy signature scrawled across what appeared to be a wax seal.

  “That is an encryption lock. You will need this to access the file.” Austin handed him a small scrap of virtual paper with the word “patch” written on it. “That seal is the latest in security software.”

  Steve memorized the password and handed Austin back the scrap of paper.

  “You will need that,” Austin protested.

  “The encryption protects the file?”

  Austin nodded.

  “But not that piece of paper.”

  Austin snorted, closed his eyes, and once again lost himself in the music.

  Steve stepped out of the booth and headed down the hall toward the lobby and Miss Allison Hwang.

  6

  Allison awoke and gasped for air. Where was she? She sat up in bed, her arms still aching, her heart racing, and her pulse throbbing in her temples. She looked down at her hands. No blood, cuts, nothing except some scars. The nightmare faded.

  “Shit!” she gasped. Allison massaged her hands. She was soaked in sweat.

  A year had passed since that day on Hainan Island when the Chinese had launched their attack on the Spratly Islands. At least once a week she relived it; and when she awoke, her dad was still gone.

  Fresh tears streaked her face as the images resurfaced. She took several deep breaths.

  His death would not be in vain. She would find a way to fulfill his dream. Despite the failed mission and political fallout, Ed Davis had given her another shot. She promised him a way to sort though the mountains of data, to provide an interface for Warscape. That is when she approached another one of her father’s friends, Austin Wheeler, about the Nexus Transporter. The Nexus became Warscape’s interface, and she became the youngest DARPA chief in history. The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency provided the Department of Defense with all the hi-tech military paraphernalia it needed, including Warscape.

  Of course, Austin required special funding, and the Nexus certification had to be streamlined. Allison had abstracted these details from Davis. Now it appeared that one of these details included a deadly bug that could jeopardize the project, and in turn, her position. She would have to go undercover one more time to correct the problem and protect the agency’s interests.

  Allison reached for a warm Pepsi sitting on her bedside stand. She popped it open and took a gulp. The tepid soda foamed as it hit her empty stomach. A few more sips cleared her mind. She placed the empty can back on the bedside stand and noticed the clock: 8:55 a.m. She collected her thoughts. Her appointment was in five minutes. Thank god for zero commute time.

  She groped for her Nexus on the stand near the bed. It was not there. Where was it? No time. She got up, opened a drawer, and grabbed the Portal Sphere’s headgear and gloves instead.

  She flipped over the bulky headset of the Portal Sphere. It resembled a motorcycle helmet and contained a flat screen for each eye and wide spectrum speakers for each ear. The fiber optic lined gloves enabled her to manipulate things in VR, but she had ditched the bodysuit and universal treadmill. Just two years prior, the Portal Sphere was cutting edge technology; then the Nexus came along.

  Now there were two types of VR gear out on the market. Unlike the Portal Sphere, the Nexus made things feel real and come alive.

  The Nexus bypassed the senses and muscles altogether and talked directly to the brain. Unlike the Portal Sphere, there was no screen glare, no hissing speakers, and no massive headgear pressing into your face. You would not stumble on a treadmill or hit the railing with your hand as you reached for something inside VR. The Nexus made VR feel like a dream.

  Allison walked down the hall to her living room and sat in a reclining chair. She shook her head and drew back her long, black hair. She slipped on the gloves and headgear and entered a dream world, but unlike her recurring nightmare, it was a dream she could control.

  Steve stepped out of the virtual hall, but instead of finding the Nexus lobby, he entered a temporary holding area, a twenty-foot by twenty-foot white-walled room with high ceilings. A single object broke up the room’s monotony. Embedded in the middle of the floor was a five-foot diameter circular mirror stenciled with the word Microsoft®.

  In an attempt to restore the lobby and erase the hacker’s handiwork, Ron had taken the lobby offline. It probably would not work. They needed to restore a backup copy of the lobby; but of course, Ron had not saved his work. Steve would have to repair the lobby by hand, and he would have to do that before anything else. He glanced at the time fixed in the upper left corner of his vision: 8:57. Great, she would be here any time.

  He was pacing. He stopped. He never should have confronted Austin. It was a bad idea, a very bad idea. Throwing Ron under the bus would not make it any better.

&nb
sp; Ron was just the CFO, a glorified accountant. Austin and Steve had stuck him with management of the internal network and servers and the title Chief Financial Officer. As always, Ron made the best of it. He had a good heart. Over the last year, Ron supported Steve as he consoled Brooke and mourned Tamera’s death. Ironically, they had met through Austin, the source of his ills.

  A metallic whine sounded in the hallway.

  Steve spun around to see a seven-foot-round, two-dimensional, black oval open up just a few feet away. It was a Portal, used to jump between different sites on the Internet. Bots in the background performed Google searches, based on the user’s request, and made the transfer, or presented options if the destination was not obvious. A woman stepped through the void and with a metallic clank the Portal disappeared behind her. She was Amerasian with a lean, athletic frame and long, black hair that contrasted with her green eyes.

  She’s beautiful, he thought. No, you’re just desperate after being alone for almost a year. Yet, he could not take his eyes off her. His neediness remained, gnawing at him.

  She turned her head from left to right and slowly scanned the room. He smiled. Her deliberate movements were the telltale signs of a Portal Sphere user. The images would jerk as the Portal Sphere panned.

  She smiled when she saw him. “You must be Steve.”

  He nodded and walked to her as she extended her hand. “Allison Hwang.”