by Needles, Dan
Allison leaned against the counter. “Yeah.”
“What if it involves DARPA?”
She laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“But shouldn’t we at least consider it? If I initiate a recall, DARPA could block it.”
Allison shook her head. “Don’t worry about that.”
He found the juice. “Why the hell not? A teenager is dead. More may follow.” He closed the fridge door and saw Brooke sitting in her wheelchair.
“Her name was Camille, Dad.”
“Oh!” Steve almost dropped the carton of orange juice. “Uh, dear I want you to meet Allison.”
“I know. You’re just working with her, right?” Brooke glared at Allison and rolled her wheelchair into the kitchen.
Allison cringed.
“Brooke! She’s our guest …”
“Oh, now she’s our guest. Why don’t you make up your mind—colleague, guest, working girl—what is it?”
“Brooke that’s enough!”
“No, it’s not enough! Cammy died last week, a year after mom and …”
“I said enough! This is not the time.”
“When is it the time? You have plenty of time for her!” Brooke cried. She spun around and headed back to her room.
Steve sighed and leaned back against the counter. Looking down, he realized the carton of juice was still in his hand. He set it aside. “Allison, I’m sorry.”
She embraced him and whispered in his ear, “You’ve got your hands full don’t you?”
“You might say that.” He released her and looked into her eyes. She was upset.
“I should go … I didn’t mean for my presence here to …”
He stoked her cheek. “Don’t go. Not like this.”
She met his gaze. “Steve, what has happened between us may or may not last. Brooke will be here your whole life, but she won’t always be your little girl.”
A tear ran down Allison’s cheek. “I’m sorry.” She looked down at her feet.
“What is it?”
“Memories. My father died last year. I just wish we had more time together.”
He drew her close again.
“I’d like to stay here tonight, but maybe with all that’s happened, I shouldn’t,” she said.
“I want you here, too.”
Allison kissed him. “Talk with her, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll make things right with her. Don’t worry. Brooke and I have gone through a lot together. Our hearts are not far apart.”
She kissed him once more and headed back to the shower.
Steve poured some juice. His mind returned to Brooke. How could she act like that? But his inner voice scolded him. How could you have Allison overnight while Brooke is in the house, especially after all that she’s been through—Tamara’s anniversary, her friend’s death? Steve shook his head. What was that girl’s name? Brooke had just told him again. His memory came up blank.
A recall had to happen. It would prevent others from dying. He hoped Ron had found something in Austin’s second set of books. Ron had known syzygy was a real word. He knew that it said something about the killer. For several minutes he concentrated. He hoped some inspiration would spark, divining some sort of meaning from the definition.
“How did the talk go?”
“Huh?” Steve looked up.
“Your talk with Brooke?”
He shook his head. “The timing wasn’t right.”
“Try not to put this off.”
“I’ll make a lunch date with her. We’ll talk then.” He grabbed a notepad, scrawled a message to Brooke, and stuck it on the fridge with a magnet. His mind continued to race.
“What’s gotten into you?”
He rubbed his chin. “Can I show you something in VR?”
“What?”
“The definition of syzygy. There’s something about it. I need to bounce some ideas off of you.”
She nodded.
Steve escorted her into his office. He moved a pile of books off a second chair and positioned it behind his desk. They sat down. Opening a desk drawer, he withdrew Brooke’s Nexus and handed it to her. “Here, use this.”
Putting the Nexuses on, they entered VR.
“Jan, display the definition of syzygy.”
A single wall of platinum appeared engraved with three definitions. He honed in on the third entry:
“The intimately united and apparently fused condition of certain low organisms during conjugation.”
The obvious sexual reference matched Syzygy’s MO. A program could be described as a low organism. The definition might refer to the computer programs that Syzygy uses.
Allison glanced at the wall of platinum. “What is it?”
“I don’t know, but I sense it. I’m missing something. And I don’t think this Quang fellow is sophisticated enough to do any of this.”
Allison laughed. “You’ve never even met him.”
“My point exactly. The killer or killers have intimate knowledge of the Nexus. I know everyone with that level of knowledge, but I’ve never heard of Quang.”
“Are you sure?”
“This is a young, poorly documented technology. All the experts get help from me, one way or another.”
Allison nodded. “If it’s any consolation, DARPA is convinced that Quang didn’t do the actual attack. He must have had an accomplice.”
“So the accomplice used Quang’s Nexus to attack me and another to attack Camille? That doesn’t make sense either. Why go to all that trouble?”
“No, that isn’t it at all. Quang never attacked you.”
Steve shook his head. “That’s impossible. You saw the logs from his Nexus. He definitely attacked me.”
“Believe me, he didn’t lie on this.”
Steve furrowed his brow. Austin had funneled the funds and hid them from regular financial channels. Perhaps the attacks worked similarly.
“How could Syzygy use Quang’s Nexus to attack me even as Quang used it?” The thought came to him. “Damn.”
“What?” she asked.
“There is one possibility. The killer could have spoofed our trace by connecting onto Quang’s Nexus and then started a different connection out of his Nexus into the Internet.”
“Huh?”
“Let me explain. I saw this old murder mystery as a kid. In it, the police traced the killer’s telephone call to the lobby of their own building. When the police confidently strode down to the lobby, they found two payphones with their receivers taped together. In this way, one phone call was relayed to the other.
“The call had actually originated from the other side of town, but their trace couldn’t ferret it out. The trace ended at the payphone in the lobby. In this case the perpetrator used the tape to hop to the other phone.”
“So you think Syzygy hopped from Nexus to Nexus?”
“Correct. That would explain why two killers had the same exact MO. There is just one killer and it isn’t Quang.” Steve frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Allison asked.
“For the analogy to hold, the tape must be another Portal Program on Quang’s Nexus. It enabled Syzygy to hop from Nexus to Nexus. We specifically designed the Nexus to have very limited space to keep down cost and to prevent hackers from uploading rogue programs like this. The program I’m describing would take quite a bit of space, unless …”
Steve remembered the log in Quang’s Nexus. It showed that signals were sent to crash the victims’ Nexus patch and V-chip programs. Although the patch was small, about twenty megabytes, the V-chip software ran over a gigabyte.
“That’s how he does it.” Steve ran a virtual hand through his hair. “Syzygy disabled the programs, not only to allow him to attack, but to replace them with his own portal program. The portal program would allow Syzygy to hop from Nexus to Nexus undetected. That has to be it. That’s the tape. We’re no farther along than when we started. Syzygy could be anyone.”
Allison’s eyes went wide. �
��Could there be other victims?”
Steve exchanged a look with Allison. “Jan, can you access the news feed and pull up any articles on the Nexus and atypical seizure?”
“There are one hundred and forty two articles in twenty seven publications.”
A wall of platinum appeared before them, listing the headlines of the articles. He scanned the list. There were several obituaries among the articles.
“Jan, can you list only the obituaries?”
“There are thirty one articles in twelve publications.”
“Jan, please record the names of the deceased.”
A blank wall of platinum appeared to his right with three names.
Camille Anderson
Shannon Pierce
Skip Harvey
Steve turned to Allison. “What approvals are needed to start a recall?”
Allison crossed her arms. “I’ll need to get back to the hotel.”
“And?”
“And I’ll see what I can do.”
30
Brooke,
I know things have been difficult over the last couple of days. Let’s meet for lunch at noon. We’ll talk. Please do not use your Nexus under any circumstances.
LUV U,
Dad
Brooke looked up from the note to her wall clock: 12:15. She read the note again. Her anger flared as she read his comment about her Nexus. How could he order her around? He had lost the right. He had ripped her offline, brought a strange woman into their home, and now he had stood her up for the third time. And he had done it all on the anniversary of her mom’s death.
She directed her wheelchair into Steve’s home office. Her dad sat in his chair, oblivious to the world, the Nexus’ lights still flickering on and off in the dimly lit room. She doubted he would be back soon. He would probably return much later that night and write her yet another note with yet more empty promises.
She maneuvered around him, opened a drawer, and extracted her Nexus. The LCDs were on. That’s odd. Her dad had forgotten to shut it off. Brooke’s excitement grew. She entered VR.
An amalgamation of sights, sounds, and smells attacked her senses as she reeled back in surprise. Everything looked like an abstract painting with blotches of blurred color. A high-pitched hum rang in her ears and the odor of wet leather filled the air. Pins and needles attacked her limbs. Brooke looked down at her left wrist. A sensory kaleidoscope swirled around the reset button, which remained motionless and still at the center of her vision. Brooke pressed the button.
The world went black, silent, sterile, and numb. Slowly the Nexus recalibrated to her senses. She found herself in her dad’s former virtual office. The system must have reset to his initial settings.
“Yes!” she said.
She had her dad’s access. With it, she would be able to visit the sites he had blocked before. Looking down, she also had her dad’s body and hairy arms and—she looked further down. Oh my god! She involuntarily shuddered.
“Computer, download the alias, Brooke Donovan.”
Her alias slowly metamorphosed into her familiar form. She sighed and walked around.
He had sculpted his old office to resemble the lobby of a Bed n’ Breakfast on the Oregon coast. It had been their family’s favorite spot until her mother had died.
Her dad had captured the Victorian flair of the place with its high ceilings and its dark oak floors, worn to a shine from years of use. To her left, an antique couch, chair, and coffee table sat beneath two large bay windows. Everything in the room possessed long, ornate legs and scarlet upholstery.
Outside, the thick fog rolled in and hugged the lower half of the house. Light gossamer wisps reached up and stroked the top of the windows and eaves.
At the heart of the room, a wood-burning Franklin stove crackled noisily. The fire’s glow cast flickering shadows, which frolicked around the room.
Brooke stretched. She felt her legs and back and marveled at the sensation. As she headed to the couch, she tripped and stumbled. Brooke frowned. She took two more steps and sat down. A photo album lay on the coffee table. She stretched her legs again, reached over, and opened the cover of the album. Like the books in her virtual tree house, it contained a Directory of Internet sites.
As she turned its pages, images popped out and played scenes before her, illustrating the various sites.
Her dad was still at work. Brooke decided to take a risk. She looked around and called out, “Charlie, help.” The little fox-like dog appeared out of nowhere and jumped onto her lap. Rising on its hind legs, it licked her face and wagged its tail. Charlie’s bright, brown eyes stared into hers.
Charlie was the representation of a dog her dad had owned long ago. The Pomeranian had bushy red hair, a stout nose, and bright, intelligent eyes. Her dad had augmented the Charlie program to travel from site to site as an Internet travel guide. Charlie interpreted the abstract commands of the user and tried to comply with the requests.
“Now, you won’t tell dad I was here, will you?” she chided him.
Charlie yipped.
“Good. Charlie, I want you to find some place fun for us to go. Can you do that?”
Charlie wagged his tail and barked. He ran off and disappeared. A few moments later, he reemerged with a pad of paper in his mouth. He jumped into her lap and dropped the pad. She picked it up as he resumed licking her face.
“All right, Charlie! Calm down!” She grinned. Brooke set him down and looked at the pad of paper. The word waterfall was etched in pencil.
“All right! You’re a good boy, Charlie! Take me there.”
A portal opened and Charlie jumped through. Brooke followed close behind.
They stood on a platform above a turbulent waterfall that poured over a cliff. Her outfit had changed to a swimsuit, and small beads of water covered her body. Her long, wet hair was pulled back. She looked down. The waterfall cascaded beneath her and created a fine mist as it crashed against the rocky cliff. The mist obscured the destination below. Without hesitation, Charlie jumped off the platform and into the mists.
“Hold on, Charlie!” Brooke yelled. She jumped in after him.
Charlie was nowhere to be seen. As she plummeted down, Brooke bounced lightly off the rocky cliff and entered the waterfall. The water danced and coiled about her. The water’s warm soothing fingers pushed her from side to side as she fell. She broke free of the waterfall.
She fell through the mist and into a void. The wind rushed across her wet skin causing her to shiver. Beneath her, she saw only sky. The ground was too far down to see. Where had the waterfall gone? She looked around. The cliff was no longer behind. Instead, scattered everywhere, perhaps one hundred yards apart and stretching as far as the eye could see from horizon to horizon, rivers of water cascaded from the sky toward the ground.
They reminded her of the electric arcs in her plasma sphere. Her mother had given her a plasma sphere as a Christmas gift a few months before the accident. The plasma sphere was a sealed glass globe with a black point in its center. As Brooke touched the outside of the globe, arcs of electricity would appear between her fingertip and the black point. They would persist, swaying gently, following her finger as she moved it.
These veins of water seemed to do the same thing. Like the arcs of electricity, they too moved back and forth independently from one another, swaying gently but erratically in a slow dance.
The nearest stream flowed fifty feet to her right. Where was Charlie? She scanned its length. Far down the river’s length, she spotted the small black speck for which she was searching.
“Charlie!” she yelled. She laughed and flipped in a circle.
The speck grew as he drew up next to her. Charlie barked and back-stepped wildly in the air. He continued to plummet down despite his efforts. His ears flew straight back from the wind and his eyes were set wide with fear and excitement.
A ribbon of water swung wildly toward them. It sucked them in. The current ripped them along at a terrific speed. Th
e water bumped and jostled them. They broke through the surface and gasped for air. Ahead of them, the stream made a sharp turn.
“Hold on Charlie!”
They broke through the wall of water as the stream turned. The force caused her to spin. Brooke screamed and Charlie yelped. She extended her arms and legs as they flew through the mist and into the dark open space between the rivers.
The spinning slowed and stopped. The ground was visible. She rotated to face the colossal mountain range below her. The range stretched from horizon to horizon. Each falling river of water plummeted into its own valley in the mountain. The rivers swayed gently like hair in a light breeze. The steams remained rooted in its mountain valleys but swayed in the sky. On the mountain, the streams of water danced down the valleys. The water divided and merged back together again endlessly as the streams roared through the canyons and gorges.
A fresh wave of adrenaline washed through Brooke as the mountain drew near. “What do you think, Mr. Charlie?”
Charlie yipped.
Brooke frowned. “Charlie, enable speech.”
“We better find another stream to ride,” Charlie said.
Brooke watched as Charlie’s lips moved unnaturally to form the words. The effect creeped her out. Her dad had not perfected the software and probably never would. Poor Charlie had been as neglected as she had since her mother’s death.
Charlie barked. “There’s one!”
They leaned downward and steered themselves toward a river a few feet away. As they touched its surface, the current sucked them in. The mountain was upon them.
Brooke felt her heart accelerate and her stomach flip as the stream slipped between the valley’s two enormous cliffs. The stream landed on the valley floor. Brooke dove through the stream, struck the bottom, and bounced upward. She broke the surface and became airborne. Charlie followed close behind. They screamed and plunged back into its depths. The river threw them back and forth as they slid through a dozen tunnels, around peaks, and over falls and rapids.