When the bell rang we split up and went about our usual business. Each of us vowed to keep an eye out for the app thief. Sam was right, though; I didn’t really know what I was looking for. Everyone looked . . . well, normal.
There were plenty more pop quizzes, of course. But true to his word, Mr. Davenport didn’t make a general announcement banning the app. Mosquito ringtones rang out every hour. I guess people will pay five bucks to keep the alerts coming. Whoever controlled the app now must be thrilled with the new income stream. And I didn’t see anyone walking around counting money, unfortunately.
Halfway through third period, I received a text from Noah. Meet me in the computer lab now!
I made an excuse to go to the restroom and headed over to the lab. I knew Mr. Varma had a free period then, so I wouldn’t be interrupting his class. There would just be the odd student there working on a project.
I reached the second floor, and Sam was right ahead of me. Noah must’ve sent her the same text. We entered the lab to find Noah sitting in front of a computer near the back. As I suspected, there were only a couple of other students there.
Noah grinned. “Guess what? I’m in.”
“In what?” asked Sam.
“I cracked the password,” he replied. “I’m in the app’s developer portal.”
“No way,” I said, eyes wide. “I thought all your software was at home.”
Noah leaned back. “I did it old-school. You see, I got to thinking . . .”
“Who cares how you did it,” Sam said, leaning closer to the screen. “Let’s get in there and—”
I held up a hand. “No, no, let him have this.”
Noah bowed his head. “Thank you, kind sir.”
Sam rolled her eyes and plopped down in a nearby chair.
“I got to thinking how this person got Amy’s password,” Noah continued. “There was a chance that he or she must’ve seen her enter it at some point.”
I pulled up another chair. “So?”
“So, he would have had to memorize Amy’s password on the fly,” Noah continued. “Now, when someone creates a new password, especially in a hurry, they usually use a birthday or something easy. But since we know nothing about the perp . . .”
“Noah, come on,” Sam said impatiently.
Noah raised his hands. “Fine, fine. The new password is one digit off from Amy’s.”
“Just one digit off?” asked Sam. “That’s it?”
“It’s an old hacker trick,” Noah explained. “It’s easy to remember and change back so it could be blamed on a keystroke error if need be.”
I extended a fist. “Way to go, man.”
Noah returned the fist bump. “Thanks.”
“So let’s go in there and delete the app,” she suggested. “You can create an update that makes it delete itself from everyone’s phones, right?”
Noah reached for the keyboard. “Easy-peasy.”
“Wait, hold up,” I said upliftingly. “If we delete the app, that’s just as bad as Mr. Davenport banning the app from the school.”
“Worse, actually,” Noah said with a smirk. “It means whoever did this won’t cash in from any of those other schools that are now listed.”
“But what I mean is we won’t be able to find out who stole the app in the first place,” I explained.
“You’re right,” Sam said. She pointed to the screen. “Is there any way to find out who it is on this site? Maybe they updated Amy’s profile?”
“First thing I checked,” said Noah. “There’s just a generic email address in the contact info. There’s a bank account number for all the fees.” He shook his head. “But unless you know someone in law enforcement, there’s no way to see who it belongs to.”
“Should we send him or her an e-mail?” Sam asked. “Flush them out that way?”
“They may not respond,” I said. “Or take days to respond. If it’s even a real e-mail address.”
Noah chuckled. “If I knew who this person was, I could write some code that could send an embarrassing photo to every person’s phone. It would be easy. He or she would go crazy trying to shut the app down.”
Sam and I looked at each other and smiled. “That’s it,” I said.
Noah shook his head. “Dude, I said if I knew who it was.”
Sam pointed at the computer screen. “No, but you could rewrite the code to do something else, right? What if you took away the pay features? Made the app free again?”
Noah grinned. “That could drive them crazy. Bunch of cash flying right out the window!”
“Good one,” I said. “But then the perp would know someone’s onto them. Can’t you just make the app crash or something?”
“Ooh,” Sam said. “If the app doesn’t work, there’s still a bunch of cash flying out the window.”
Noah’s eyes lit. “And there’s a chance people would delete the faulty app altogether.”
“Oh, yeah.” I grinned. “And if it were me, I’d be nuts trying to get it running again as quickly as possible.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Noah. He pulled up the app source code and began scrolling down the screen. “I could bury a flaw deep in Amy’s original code. I know her programming style. I could make it look like it was her mistake in the first place.”
“The app thief would have to scan the code, line by line, to find the error,” Sam said. “He or she would spend way too much time trying to find the problem.”
“Instead of doing schoolwork,” Noah added as he scrolled. “We could look for someone ditching class, sneaking into the computer lab or the library.”
I glanced around the computer lab. “But it can’t crash now,” I said. “We can’t see anyone panicking if we’re stuck in class.”
Noah typed on the keyboard. “Leave everything to me.”
13
The Surveillance Stratagem
THE THREE OF US MET up at lunch and got in line as early as possible. If everything went as planned then we wouldn’t have much time to eat. We grabbed a table near the back and sat facing the rest of the room.
Noah pulled out his phone between bites. He set it on the table and checked the screen. “One minute to go.”
My best friend and hacker extraordinaire had added a flaw into Amy’s code easily enough. The tricky part was making it go into effect at the right moment. Luckily, the app developer site had a feature that let users schedule automatic updates. The site kept a record of the updates, of course, but not of when the updates were originally scheduled. If all went well, the app thief would think this was just an update Amy had scheduled earlier.
Noah had set it to update during lunch when most of the students would be in one place. We had a backup plan if no one freaked out in the cafeteria. We would just have to do things the hard way—check the school, room by room. Luckily, the Swift Academy wasn’t huge, hence only one lunch period. It would take some running, but we could each take a floor and account for any stray student who wasn’t in the cafeteria.
Noah checked his phone again. “Here we go,” he said. “In three, two, one . . .”
Sam and I froze midbite. The three of us gazed around the bustling cafeteria. Students ate, chatted, texted, did schoolwork, but . . . nothing happened. Sam and I slowly turn to Noah. Something had gone wrong.
Noah shrugged. “I don’t know. It should’ve . . .”
Ding-ding.
High-pitched alerts sounded from everyone’s phones, including Noah’s and mine.
“Yeah, Amy would’ve timed that better,” Noah admitted.
Along with everyone else, I pulled out my phone and saw the update alert on my screen. Pop Chop update available, it read, followed by Update Now or Update Later. I tapped the Update Now button and watched the progress bar fill as my phone downloaded the updated software.
And yes, I had gone ahead and paid to continue using the app. I didn’t like the idea of giving money to the thief who stole my friend’s app. But Noah and I agreed to pay in order
to keep using it, and hopefully smoke out the bad guy.
“Look at all of them,” Sam whispered.
I glanced up from my phone to see that I wasn’t alone. Most everyone in the cafeteria stared at his or her phone as the update downloaded.
Sam grinned. “This is going to work.”
Once the updated app was downloaded, it launched automatically. The loading screen appeared, followed by the main screen as usual. Then the unusual happened. A tiny string of computer code scrolled across the top of the screen before everything froze completely. I tried tapping the screen but nothing happened. I finally closed the app and then relaunched it. The sequence repeated itself before locking up again.
“That bit of code was a nice touch,” I told Noah.
He smiled. “You like that?”
Sam leaned forward and scanned the crowd. “Okay, let’s see who goes nuts.”
There were plenty of displays of frustration going around the cafeteria, but nobody was going nuts. I would be frustrated too if I had just paid for an app I had been using for free, only for it to stop working because of some computer glitch. Honestly, we expected to see someone bolt out of the cafeteria or at least whip out his or her laptop. There was nothing like that.
“The thief must be somewhere else,” I muttered.
“Okay,” Sam sighed. “Plan B it is.”
We put our trays away and quickly left the cafeteria.
Noah began with classrooms on the first floor while Sam and I bolted for the stairs. I got off on the second floor and she continued up toward the third.
Checking classrooms was easy. I peeked through each door window as I made my way down the hall. So far, all of them had been empty or had a teacher working behind his or her desk.
I had my money on the computer lab. Like Noah, someone could access the developer site from one of the school computers.
I crept up to the lab and peeked inside. Sure enough, I wasn’t disappointed. Three students were working inside.
At first, I wondered how I could sneak in without the perp seeing me. But then I remembered that if this was the app thief, he or she shouldn’t be suspicious at this point. If Noah’s plan worked, this person would merely think something went wrong in Amy’s original code. They should just be anxious about trying to find the mistake.
I strolled through the door as if I had business there. Even though I was trying to act casual, I couldn’t help but feel anxious myself. I was about to catch the app thief.
Two of the students, Ashley Robbins and Deena Bittick, sat near the front of the room, chatting more than working at the computers. They didn’t seem flustered at all. I quickly ruled them out. That just left one person at the back of the lab.
As I drew closer, I recognized who it was: Anya Latke. Anya was an amazing programmer and already had a history of hacking. She was a hero to the students when she pranked the entire school with her Catastrophe last year. She had hacked the school servers, and every school computer played nothing but cat videos for an hour. She could easily top the list of people able to pull off something like this.
As I moved in, she stared intently at the computer monitor. Her blond hair was pulled back, revealing a look of concentration. She didn’t even look up as I approached.
I slipped my phone from my pocket and set it to camera mode. My plan was to walk by and sneak a photo of the app code on her computer screen. If we had solid proof, Mr. Davenport was bound to let Amy off the hook.
I closed in, raised my phone, and then . . . saw that she was watching—you guessed it—more cat videos. What was up with her and those things? Maybe she was gearing up for Catastrophe II or a Catmageddon. Either way, she was innocent—well, from hijacking the app, at least.
I swung around and headed toward the door when I received a text from Sam. I got him, it read. And he’s mad.
I froze just inside the classroom. Sam sent a photo next. I enlarged the image showing Jamal Watts sitting at a worktable in the robotics classroom. Sam’s photo caught him midsnarl as he stared down at his open laptop. His hands were on either side of his head in total frustration. It looked as if he was actually about to pull out clumps of hair. Lines of computer code filled his computer screen. I couldn’t make out the blurry code in the image, but Jamal’s frustrated body language said it all.
He was the app thief.
14
The Identity Inaccuracy
AFTER A FLURRY OF TEXTS between the three of us, Sam, Noah, and I decided to wait to confront Jamal. We had robotics class with him that afternoon, so we would do it there, in front of several witnesses. Sam thought it would help Amy’s case if there were students other than Amy’s three best friends to validate the story.
Time seemed to drag on as I sat through two more classes. There was only one more pop quiz, but since the app was down, the student grumblings were particularly noticeable. Everyone seemed to miss their early-warning system, especially since they had just shelled out some money to keep the privilege.
When I finally got to robotics class, Noah and Sam were already there. They sat at our worktable with the Choppa taken apart before them. As I joined them, I saw Tony and Maggie working at their table, but there was no sign of Jamal.
Sam turned a screwdriver, adjusting one of our robot’s ax heads. “Do you think we waited too long?”
“I know, right?” Noah agreed. He wiped down the side of our robot’s outer shell. “If he went home early, we missed our chance.”
“And possibly our deadline,” I added.
Just then, Jamal swooped into class right before the bell rang. I relaxed a little as he joined his teammates at their table, but I was still tense. I wasn’t looking forward to confronting anyone, especially a fellow classmate. I thought of Amy and how she had looked when she was suspended. That image strengthened my resolve.
Luckily, Mrs. Scott had done her best to resist the pop-quiz edict. And with our big battle coming up, most of our classes were about prepping our robots, with her drifting from team to team, offering advice and answering questions. This would be the perfect place to confront Jamal.
I glanced in Jamal’s direction to see him setting up at the far end of their worktable. While his teammates made adjustments to their robot, Flailing Grade, Jamal opened up his laptop and began typing away. His brow furrowed as he stared at the screen.
I caught Noah’s eye and gave him a nod. I glanced at Sam and she set down her screwdriver and stood from her stool. The three of us marched over to Jamal Watts.
Jamal was so entranced in his work that he didn’t see us approach. We were almost on top of him before he looked up. When he saw us, his eyes widened and he slammed his computer shut. I caught a glimpse of the screen before it disappeared; it was full of computer code.
“What’s up, guys?” Jamal asked nervously.
“Is everything all right, Jamal?” Sam asked. “You look a little worried.”
“I’m . . . uh . . . fine,” he replied.
Noah smiled at Sam. “He does look a little tense.”
I nodded toward the table. “What are you working on?”
Jamal slid a protective hand onto his laptop. “Nothing.”
Noah rubbed his chin. “I’m guessing he has a little code problem.”
Jamal’s eyes flashed. “How do you know about that?”
Wow, there it was. Caught in the act.
“Do you realize how much you’ve hurt one of the nicest, sweetest people I know?” Sam asked, pointing a finger at Jamal’s face. “Amy was suspended because of you.”
“Suspended?” asked Jamal. He glanced at Noah and me. “What is she talking about?”
It turns out that I didn’t have to be so worried about confronting Jamal. Sam was doing a fine job by herself. I glanced around nervously as the rest of the class began taking notice.
“Why did you do it?” Sam growled. Jamal backed away as she stepped forward. “Was it just about the money?”
“What money?” ask Ja
mal. “Are you talking about the robot battle? Is there going to be prize money now?”
“There’s no prize money,” said Noah. “We’re talking about the five bucks you started charging everyone last night.”
“Don’t forget the part where you can upload your test paper,” Sam added. She poked his chest. “That’s what got her suspended.”
Jamal held up both hands. “Wait. You think I created the Pop Chop app?”
“We know you didn’t create it,” Sam replied, her eyes narrowed. “You just hijacked it.”
Jamal cocked his head. “Are you . . . are you talking about the crash? Because I had nothing to do with that.”
Noah jutted a thumb at his chest. “No, I caused the crash.”
“Okay, wait.” Jamal shook his head in confusion. “Then what did I do again?”
Something wasn’t right here. Why was Jamal asking about the robot battle? Sure, the teams talk a lot of trash, but surely he can’t think that’s what this is all about.
Jamal certainly acted guilty enough. But then there’s the stuff about us thinking that he created the app. Either Jamal had a world-class poker face or we got the wrong guy.
I stepped between Jamal and my friends. “Hang on a minute.” I pointed to Jamal’s laptop. “Can we see what you’re working on for a second?”
Jamal gave me a suspicious look. “Why?”
“I think it might clear some stuff up,” I replied.
Jamal glared up at me and then at Sam and Noah. Finally, he sighed and opened his laptop. The three of us crowded the screen. It was filled with code, all right, but . . .
“Look, I’m not trying to rip you off or anything,” Jamal explained. “I just thought your robot AI was a cool idea. I was trying to write something like it for our robot.”
The lines of computer code on Jamal’s screen weren’t for the Pop Chop app at all. The text was open in a completely different software package and interface. I recognized it at once. It was the same software Noah used to program the AI for our robot.
Sam glanced at Noah and me. She winced. “Whoops?”
The Sonic Breach Page 6