“Then maybe you should take it all. Everything in the Batsu database.”
Take it all? It would save time if he didn’t have to search for the sort of files Tash most wanted, but then copying the entire lot would take much more, assuming he had the storage on his buttons to hold it all, which he didn’t. But he didn’t think it would be any use trying to explain that to Shin.
“Thanks for the advice. I’ll think about it.”
Now he got the cold glare. “Whether you want it or not, I’ll be around, looking for ways to help you, Ro.” Just what he needed, somebody as striking as her following him.
With a remote expression on her face, she spun and stalked off into the night. He watched her for a moment, then slipped into the shadows to head for what he hoped would be his third rendezvous of the evening.
Chapter 13
A Revealing Rendezvous
A little later that evening
ROSHIKE RETURNED TO the very same classroom building where earlier he’d had such a trying afternoon. Of course at this hour it was dark, seemingly empty, and probably locked. He could always get around that if he had to, but before he pulled out his shadow screen he tried the door and found it unlocked. Not a huge surprise, he’d half expected that. And it gave him hope.
He’d followed the same path he’d taken earlier in the day at the direction of the Gaku-net, but this time he was on his own, and no one should be aware what he was doing at the moment, which was going to Mark Tadashi’s office. He found the door ajar.
As he approached, he heard the soft sound of a chair squeaking and knew someone was there, even though the light was off. Hopefully it was Tadashi, but it might be a trap. Roshike waited. And a minute later he heard a rat-tat-tat of fingers drumming against the desk top and knew it was the right person. The professor had made that same sound tapping against the podium as he’d been quizzing them during class.
After their parting words in that very office, Roshike had wondered if the man might be here, waiting late for him to show up, and since he’d learned Mark might really be a member of the Yes network and the other of Tash’s inside agents, however that had come to be, he’d expected to find the professor. And a private chat certainly seemed called for now. So he slid silently through the partly open door and then felt along the wall until he found the switch.
The lights suddenly turning on didn’t appear to startle the man sitting at the desk. He blinked, but met Roshike’s eye with a steady gaze and the hint of a smile. “I have to say—I was beginning to wonder whether or not you’d gotten my message.”
Roshike kept his voice low. “Of course I understood, but I might not have come. I almost didn’t.” Let the other man commit himself first.
The instructor sighed and ran his hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “What else can I do to convince you? If the sign wasn’t enough to show you who I am...”
Roshike stared straight at the screen still sitting amid the clutter on the man’s desk. “Are you quite sure it’s safe to talk freely?”
The man stifled a chuckle. “Nobody’s listening to this conversation, and it’s not being recorded, if that’s what you mean, but I think you should see for yourself.” He nodded at the screen.
After hesitating a moment, Roshike reached out and grabbed the thing off the professor’s desk. And when he turned it on, he almost whistled he was so astonished. “This is a shadow screen. You can only get these through the underground market.” They also cost the earth, but that wouldn’t bother a level-nine Batsu instructor. The shock was that he’d have such a thing in his possession at all. The risk, if the enforcers found it, was immense.
“I do get out a bit, as it happens.” Then the professor leaned back in his chair and smiled. “But no, I didn’t buy that, I built it. Where do you think they come from?”
Roshike really hadn’t given it any thought. But given the technical superiority of the Batsu, it made sense that the shadow screens originated within the Gaku. Thinking about it now raised another question in his mind, given what he’d seen of how their system operated. “How is it these things can work at all? Why doesn’t the Gaku-net recognize their existence, or notice the inconsistencies created every time one is used?”
Mark waved his hand in the air. “The Gaku-net was built with a blind spot, and I learned how to exploit it. It simply can’t see a shadow screen operating on the net, or what it does.”
Roshike supposed he’d have to be satisfied with that vague explanation. Anyway, he was impressed both by what the man had done as well as his courage in even attempting such a thing. And Mark had hidden it there in plain sight, the evidence of his rebellion.
Appreciating his own shadow screen even more now, Roshike took it from its pouch on his belt and held it in his hand. “Then with this, I shouldn’t have any difficulty hacking into the main server.” As long as he could get to it.
But Mark was shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but what you propose to do is impossible.”
Impossible? “I wasn’t going to try to access the core database through some other screen, but from the server itself. With this—” He held up the shadow screen Tash had given him. “I can just copy the registration of someone with the authority to access the files I’m looking for and download them onto a memory button or two.” The difficult part would be getting into that server room.
Mark leaned forward frowning. “The sort of superficial hacks you can do with a shadow screen are only possible because it all occurs on the wider net. But the core code and the database that holds all the information you want is only contained on the server itself. Individual requests for retrieving data are filtered through several layers of security—”
Roshike interrupted. “That’s why I said I’m going direct to the server itself.”
The man sighed and started again. “But no one has authority to access the server directly, so there isn’t a registration for a shadow screen to use. And the firewall is too tight for a brute force hack. Anyone high-enough level can connect their screen and receive data from the server, but any electronic query from an interfaced device is considered an attack by definition. The server would automatically close down the connection and probably sound an alarm of some sort.”
“Then you’re saying it really can’t be done.” He believed this man to be Tash’s other agent on the inside now, but he doubted what he was hearing. Roshike had expected the job to be hard, but he could not accept that it was impossible.
Mark picked up a small piece of equipment off the top of his desk and peered at it as he spoke. “It might just be possible. And I am supposed to help you any way I can.” He held the thing up in the air so Roshike could look at it. “This is a prototype, an adapter for speeding up the transfer of data.”
Of course the faster Roshike could copy data to his shadow screen the better, especially if an alarm had gone off and an army of guards was on its way, but he didn’t understand how the thing would help him get access to the data in the first place. “That’s great. And it gets me past the firewall how?”
The professor hesitated, as if he was searching for a way to explain that someone like Roshike, with his obviously limited knowledge, could understand. “It bypasses any electronic signal. Or better to say it piggybacks on the signal by discharging a fundamental particle to create a pattern of interruptions in the waveform of the electrons to create a data set. It can access information without actually interacting with the processor. Not in the traditional sense anyway.”
Roshike’s look must’ve shown Mark that the explanation wasn’t helping him, for the man stopped there and shrugged before handing the gadget over to Roshike and continuing. “In practical terms, the Taki chip inside that interface will take the program you initiate, the code that will find and retrieve the information you’re seeking, and for want of a better word, translate it. It can perform trillions of calculations in a nanosecond and execute your code and collect the data you described for it virtually
instantaneously, while the system is still doing the digital handshake after you’ve connected the devices. You can copy the files before the Gaku-net even knows it was queried.”
That Roshike could understand. “But I suppose the system will register an unauthorized query and set off any alarm that would trigger.” At least it had moved the job out of the realm of the impossible to merely the extremely challenging.
Mark nodded. “And it will take time for the interface to translate any significant amount of information it might retrieve for you into a form you can store on your shadow screen.” He reached down to pull open one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out a small box. “And I have to tell you, one or two memory buttons won’t be enough to hold all the information you’ll want to download—not the kind of buttons you’d have gotten on the outside.”
“It’s awfully convenient, you knowing just what I’ll need and happening to have it all at hand.” The question was implied—as were the doubts Roshike had.
“Tash couldn’t be explicit in his message for obvious reasons, but I could guess the general outline of what he wanted you to do. And as I’ve been waiting for us to be able to have this little talk, I’ve been working on the problem. The Gaku-net is a bit of a specialist subject of mine, so I understood the difficulties involved already, and I’ve been working with a physicist in another section on this prototype for a long time.”
Roshike raised an eyebrow at that.
Mark chuckled. “Don’t worry. While the Gaku-net will likely recognize an unauthorized attempt at access, it shouldn’t know that interface was used, so I should be safe from suspicion.”
“I was wondering if your little prototype will actually work.”
“Oh, well, I think it should. I’ve been testing it running similar applications, transferring information between screens, and it’s worked in laboratory conditions. And it’s really the only shot you’ve got.”
Roshike could see that, so there was nothing to do but try. “Whether it works or not, the Gaku-net will still register an attempted breach of its firewall though, won’t it?”
“Oh, yes, it’ll definitely do that. And I’m afraid you won’t know how successful you were until after the interface has translated the data and transferred it to your shadow screen.” He reached across the top of the desk and set the little box in his hand on the edge in front of Roshike. “Those are the best memory buttons the Batsu have—one could hold a small library, and two or three might be able to contain all the information stored in the server, the Batsu’s entire database.”
That made Roshike think of what Shin had just said to him. “Will they be able to tell what I take?”
“Now, that—” Mark shook his head. “I’m sure I couldn’t say. But then you’ll want to get out of the Gaku as quickly as you can either way.”
“True.” And whether breaching the server actually worked or not. Roshike didn’t plan on hanging around anyway, but he certainly wouldn’t stay longer than he had to just to find out how badly the Batsu wanted him and what for.
He reached down and flipped the lid of the tiny box Mark had given him and looked at the little buttons inside. There were plenty, and if he succeeded in getting the information he sought, it would be vital to share it with as many people as possible—so the Batsu wouldn’t be able to stop it spreading. “I’ll wait around until I can make a couple copies of the data I get, and I’ll leave a set somewhere for you, so you can get it out to Tash.” In case Roshike was unable to make it out of the compound. “Is there any particular place it would be safe to leave a few dangerous buttons for you to pick up?”
The professor nodded and stood. “I’ll show you a little conference room just off the back entrance—it’s rarely used anyway and is always left unlocked. This building is empty at night, and I often leave it unlocked when I work late. So it should be safe for you to use to make copies and leave a set there.”
Roshike smiled in appreciation. “That ought to do alright. You’re sure you won’t get into trouble?”
Mark came around the desk. “Only make sure you aren’t seen coming or going and I’ll be fine. I’m sure that shouldn’t be a problem for you.”
Roshike stepped out into the corridor, trying to think how to ask what he wanted without mentioning the Kyoushi. “How can you be...who you are?”
“Apparently there’s a lot you don’t know about our heritage and history. I don’t have the skills you or Tash possess, because I was brought up quite differently, but those things aren’t what make us. The code we live by does, and that we share.”
Roshike nodded. In a way he understood what Mark was saying, and he’d have to be satisfied with that for an answer—he wouldn’t be sticking around long enough for more of these talks. He thought he had all he needed to do the job now, and his days as a candidate were numbered. One way or another.
Following his new friend down the hall, he was running through the operation in his mind. It was too late to try tonight, and he was too tired. But he was prepared. Now he would have to wait until the right time to act had come. He didn’t know when it would, but he’d know when it had, and he would be ready to move fast.
Chapter 14
Free Day
Three days later
ROSHIKE STEADILY PUSHED the paint roller on its extended rod up the outside wall of the female candidates’ dormitory, applying a coat of red, until he reached the top. Then he slowly brought it back down, carefully smoothing out the paint as he went. As he dipped the roller again into the pan of paint sitting on the tarp that covered the ground, he looked at Futoh on his right, struggling to wield his own roller, then glanced at Carl working on his left. “So tell me if I’ve got this right—our ‘free day’ simply means that instead of receiving training that adds to our debt, we get to work off some of what we owe with manual labor?”
Futoh nodded and started to laugh, but it came out as a wheeze. Carl was the one who actually answered. “I suppose that sums up the concept fairly well, but you should be grateful. The faster we pay off our debt, the quicker we have the opportunity to advance—promotions don’t come cheap. And they don’t usually allow you to charge them on account. So you have to save.”
Roshike thought the training was far too much like work to have to pay for, but he wasn’t about to say that. “I’d thought maybe ‘free day’ meant some time to ourselves.”
Futoh snorted. “Fat chance of that.” Splashing paint as he dropped his brush into the pan with an astonishing lack of precision, then splattering more red around as he awkwardly lifted the brush back to the wall, the man shook his head. “And don’t think that you’re actually paying down your debt today—what we’re getting for this won’t even cover the cost of one day’s room and board.”
Carl bridled. “But the net charge to our account will be a lot less, and that’s something. Every little bit helps, after all.” Which sounded like a bromide he’d been taught rather than something he actually believed.
Carefully applying a coat of paint to another bit of the wall, Roshike refrained from offering his own opinion on this, as he had on every other topic. He was gathering information by asking questions instead of trying to answer any. If either of his fellow candidates noticed he wasn’t volunteering anything much, they weren’t mentioning the fact.
He brought his rotating brush back down again and dipped it in the pan of fresh paint. “I don’t suppose you have any idea what they’ll have us do next, once we’ve finished here?”
Carl nodded. “After this, the next job on the list is mowing the grass around that large lecture hall.” He gestured in the direction of the place they’d assembled to hear the official history of the Batsu, on their first morning as candidates. And since it was the only large lecture hall they all had as a common point of reference, it had to be what he’d meant.
Futoh finished slapping another stripe of paint on the wall, then dropped both brush and rod onto the tarp. “Sounds like a good reason to take plent
y of time doing this job. We don’t want to mow grass in the heat of the day, do we? So I’m taking a bit of a break now, and I mean to take a long lunch too—the best timing would probably be to finish this job just before supper.” He started to stagger away toward the male candidates’ dormitory. Well, Futoh was having enough difficulty with the current task. He wouldn’t fare well cutting grass in the sun.
Carl cast a derisive look at his fellow trainee administrator. “Remember we get paid by how much we get done, not how long we take to do it. And that the Batsu won’t appreciate your attitude.”
Futoh grinned back over his shoulder. “And I’ll bet if knowing about my attitude was worth two bits to them, you’d be rushing to report me right now.”
Roshike returned to his work but talked to Carl while he rolled his brush up and back down. “Have you any idea what the women are doing? Don’t tell me they’re painting our dormitory?” Which would present a problem for him—until the paint had well and truly dried at least.
Carl shook his head. “I heard that they’re washing and mending all our uniforms first, then they’ll be cleaning the cafeteria kitchen.” He glanced over at where Futoh was wandering off toward the male dormitory. “Perhaps he should be working with the women. Out of the sun.”
That remark more likely reflected a desire to be rid of the man’s presence than any concern for Futoh’s welfare on Carl’s part. Their mutual animosity hadn’t faded as they’d continued to spend lots of time together. Carl clearly didn’t believe that situation would last long and was counting the days until he was promoted away from the other man. Or until Futoh was demoted. Either case would likely please Carl.
But thinking about those two wouldn’t help Roshike, so he asked another question. “Are free days only for candidates? Or do we have to do this kind of thing once we’re citizens?”
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