Digital Winter (15 page)

“How similar?”

The question contained several unspoken queries. Jeremy had been asking the same questions. “Place the digital DNA side by side and there's about a seventy-five percent similarity. That's ballpark. Stuxnet was—is—a big file. It will take more time to get an accurate number. I wouldn't be surprised if it's more.”

“Still, there's about a twenty-five percent difference. That means someone is messing with the thing. We have an actor.”

“I'm sure we do, but…”

“Say it.”

“We've also compared the version of Moriarty found in the Hoover Dam system with what we got off the power grid for the West Coast. There are differences.”

“Moriarty. You've named the beast?”

“Something my wife said sometime back. It seems appropriate. Viruses and worms get names. Moriarty is—”

“The archenemy of Sherlock Holmes.”

“Yes, sir, the guy who was always one step ahead. The worm that struck the region-two grid is slightly different from the one that hit region four in the west.”

“A different worm for each region of the power grid?”

“Even worse. When we compare the nature of Moriarty that took down a portion of the east grid and the west grid to the second outage, we see even more changes. I think it's mutating.”

“Tied to reboot?”

Jeremy nodded. “Only part of the country lost power in the first wave of outages. Systems were shut down and then rebooted. Shortly after that, Moriarty became a stronger worm. This time it took out all regions of the power grid and started doing the same around the planet.”

“You know you're depressing me.”

“Sorry, sir. I could do a jig if that would cheer up the general.”

“Nah, it would only depress me more.” Holt rubbed his chin but didn't offer his thoughts. “Be ready in…” he looked at his watch. “Fifteen.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jeremy comforted himself with the knowledge that in his line of work, discovering the enemy meant the war was almost over. Moriarty had been identified in several variations, but eradication software could be modified to find and destroy the lines of code. If things went well, power could be up in a couple of days at most.

Roni's watch revealed that it was after ten. She had been working with minimal breaks and food for close to fourteen hours. She longed for a hot meal, a cold drink, and a warm bed. Just thinking of her bed with the thick quilt and fresh sheets made her long for home.

The trauma surgery needs of the night had slowed enough for several of the surgeons to slip away from the ORs. That was the good news. The bad news was that almost all the knife jockeys and some of the ER crews were in the doctors' lounge trying to sleep. If the hospital had not been dealing with a train wreck and injuries sustained from auto accidents clogging the intersections of the city, she might be able to find an empty hospital room and camp out for a couple hours. As it was, she couldn't find an empty gurney in a hallway.

A one-time smoker, Roni fought the desire to bum a cigarette off someone and puff away a few minutes in the black that covered the city, but she had given up the habit before entering med school. Cigarettes had taken the lives of her mother, father, and brother, and it had caused her premature birth and a childhood of asthma. She had no love for the tobacco industry, especially after her gross anatomy class, when she and a few other students cut open a cadaver as part of the class work. Where lungs should have been were two black bags of tissue. The cadaver had once been a middle-aged woman, too young to be a grandmother but old enough to leave a grieving family.

She had been able to give up the addiction, but the urge occasionally came back, usually when under great stress. Tonight qualified. Still, she could enjoy the night air again. Maybe the January chill would revive her.

She followed her previous course from the OR to the ER and out the public entrance. The crowd had thinned—a good sign. Maybe there was life after a power outage. She stepped around several gurneys in the hall, each loaded with someone in need but not with injuries severe enough to move them to the top of the list.

Three steps into the ER lobby, Roni caught sight of the boy who had previously dissolved into tears and wrapped his arms around her neck as if she were his mother. Cody? Yes, Cody. That was the name. He sat in the same chair next to the window, staring into the ebony night. The kid should be home in bed, but he no longer had a mother to tuck him in. Apparently social services hadn't made it by yet.

She looked at the others in the ER. One gaunt man, his thin beard stained with things Roni didn't want to know about, stared at Cody. He didn't blink, didn't look around. He wore a smile no boy should have to see. The man's clothes were as filthy as his beard. He rose and started for Cody.

“Hey, sport.” His voice was loud for the circumstance. Either the man was close to deaf or possessed no situational awareness. “You look lonely.”

Roni didn't weigh her options. She stepped forward, arriving at the man's side just as he touched Cody's knee.

“Excuse me.” Her voice came out half an octave deeper than usual, and both words had edges. One step more and she had interposed her body between the lecher and Cody. She could smell the man. Booze. Stale cigarettes. Week-old perspiration.

“Hey.”

Roni turned to face the man. “What?” The word was ice.

“Nuthin'.”

She reached for Cody's hand. “Hey, you. Let's take a walk.”

Cody didn't speak, but his face said he was glad to see her.

She led him down the hall and stopped at the first hospital phone she came to and placed a call to security.

“Where we goin'?”

“To a better place. You've been in that chair all night. Those fiberglass seats aren't all that comfortable.”

“They're okay. They're kinda like the chairs in school.”

She mussed his hair. “I hate those things. They make my fanny itch.”

He smiled. The grin lacked conviction.

Roni tested the elevator. The call button lit when she pressed it. The hospital had only four floors, so the elevators were hydraulic and not driven by large electrical motors. She knew this only because the hospital held annual disaster drills. Hydraulic elevators were the choice of building engineers for low-rise buildings. The cabs rode on large metal pistons moved by hydraulic pressure. It took less electricity to run a pump than to operate a voltage-hungry electrical motor large enough to raise and lower a full elevator cab. Still, she felt apprehension when she and Cody stepped into the elevator car. She punched the button for the fourth floor.

The elevator began its ascent, but it seemed slower than Roni remembered. She wondered if the generators were being taxed beyond their limits. She couldn't imagine it being otherwise.

The door parted, and Roni looked into the small lobby and the hall that led to ICU. “This way, kiddo.”

“Why are we here?” He trotted alongside, causing Roni to slow her steps. She had a tendency to walk fast when on a mission.

“There are too many people down there. You can have a little more room up here and maybe even a bed. The people here are the best.”

“Where are we?” His voice was shaky. She couldn't blame him.

“This wing of the hospital has the CCU and ICU departments.” He looked puzzled. “CCU stands for Coronary Care Unit. When people have heart surgery, they come here to get better. ICU means Intensive Care Unit. It's where patients who need special care stay. The doctors and nurses are the best. Wonderful people. You'll like them.”

“Am I gonna live here?”

Roni stopped, turned, and bent so she could face the boy eye-to-eye. “No way, Cody. This is just until things settle down. The hospital is a little crazy right now. I just want to make sure you're—” She decided not to say
safe
. “You'll be more comfortable here. Maybe even get a little sleep. If you want, I'll have some food sent up or even some ice cream. Do you like ice cream?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind?”

“'Nilla.”

“Vanilla it is. And a sandwich. You like tuna?”

“It's okay. Chips?”

“Sure.”

Roni admired the kid. He was holding together better than a child his age should. She attributed it to emotional shock. He also had experience losing a parent. Of course, it was an act. He was trying to be brave for her. The thought ripped away a piece of her heart.

They stopped at a pair of wide doors. A white phone hung on a wall to their left. An engraved sign read “I
NTENSIVE
C
ARE
—D
IAL
0.” Roni did, and one of the nurses answered.

“Dr. Matisse” was all she said. The doors opened, and Roni led Cody into the dim medical area. A circular nurses' station dominated the space, and rooms with glass walls faced the area. Nurses, some in scrubs and some in lab coats, mingled with doctors. She glanced at the rooms and saw what she hoped to find.

“Hi, Dr. Matisse.” The speaker was a nurse of East Indian descent. Her words rode on a lilting accent. “Checking on your patients?”

“Partly—”

“They're doing fine. Let me get their charts.”

“Hang on, Padma. I wonder if you could do me favor.” The thirty-something RN turned her brown face to Roni. Roni considered her one of the most exotic beauties she had seen. She also had a heart of 24-karat gold. She knew Padma better than the other nurses because Roni had been the surgeon who saved her husband's life three years ago after a car knocked him from his touring bike. Three surgeries later, Padma's husband was on the mend with only a slight limp to remind him of all of his injuries.

“Sure. What can I do for you?” Padma noticed Cody. “And who is this handsome young man?”

“His name is Cody. He's had a rough time.” She spoke in medical code. “Vehicular trauma. Surgery. Heroics failed.” She explained about Cody's father. “No relatives. As you can imagine, ER is a zoo, and they have a few undesirables in the waiting room.” She made eye-contact that carried the unspoken words. “I doubt SS will show anytime soon. Can we find a cot for him?”

“We have two empty beds, but we may lose those soon.” Padma thought for a moment. “Let's do this. I'll set him up in an empty room and let the staff know. CCU can take overflow. If we get too crowded, I'll set up a gurney in the lounge. We'll take care of him.”

“You're the best, Padma.”

“Yes, I know.” She followed the words with a grin. Roni could see the weariness in her eyes. “Are you getting any word from the outside?”

Roni shook her head. “Not much. I've been in and out of OR all day and night. In fact, I've got to be back in about fifteen minutes.”

“I've heard that power is down across the country.”

“Maybe. I don't know how that can be true, but I haven't had time to think about it.” Roni dropped to a knee as she had done in the ER hours before and faced Cody. “Okay, kiddo. This is Nurse Padma. She's the nicest person in the world.”

“Nice as you?”

“Okay, she's the
second
nicest person in the world.” Roni conjured up a smile. “She's gonna keep an eye on you for a while. Try to get some sleep. I know it's going to be hard, but try anyway. Will you do that for me?”

“I guess.” Tears rose.

Roni's eyes followed suit.

Cody threw his arms around her neck again, and Roni embraced him and let the child cry. It took all of Roni's will not to join the weeping.

A few moments later, Padma laid a hand on Cody's shoulder. “Come on, handsome. Let's get you set up. I have an iPad with some games on it. You can use it if you want.”

Roni rose. “I promised him some food.”

“I'll take care of it, Doctor.”

“Also—”

“We've got this, Doctor. He's in good hands. I'll make sure he's well taken care of.”