Digital Winter (42 page)

Her work at Harris Memorial continued to be challenging. As more hospitals came online in DC, the flow of ER and surgical patients decreased. Medications were still in short supply and had to be used judiciously.

Adjusting to the small apartment and life under artificial light proved easier than Roni thought possible. Cody loved it. He played with the children of congressmen and senators, high-ranking military personnel, and rank-and-file soldiers. Only a child would find adventure in this, but if pressed, Roni would admit the experience was pretty cool. Still, she never forgot what was happening not far from the secret compound. People suffered. Things were better, but they were not good for those who still struggled to get by on too little food and very little technology. She wondered if things would ever return to the previous normal. She didn't like thinking about it.

As Roni walked from the hospital to their apartment, she caught sight of Senator Ryan O'Tool sprinting her way. His eyes settled on her, and he adjusted his course.

“Dr. Matisse, I need you. I mean,
we
need you.”

“Settle down, Senator. What's the problem?”

“The president has collapsed.”

Her spine fused and her knees went weak. “Where is he?”

“The sitting area outside his apartment. You know where that is, right?”

She did. Jeremy took great pride in introducing her to the president. They first met in the space O'Tool mentioned. Roni and O'Tool immediately started running back that direction as they talked. “Tell me what happened.”

“We were discussing recent intel on the Israel-Syria problem. We were also wrestling with the new EU—”

“Cut to the chase, Senator. Tell me exactly what happened to the president.”

“He was talking…he grimaced…he clutched at his chest, moaned, and fell from his chair. I think he hit his head too.”

Roni stopped and faced O'Tool. “Here's what you're going to do, Senator. Get to the hospital and tell the first person you see…” No, that wouldn't do. Word would spread. “Ask for the shift doctor and tell him I sent you. Then you say this: ‘President down. Possible heart. Crash cart. Stat.' Then tell them where to go. Got it?”

“Shift doctor. Down. Heart. Crash cart. Stat.”

“Go. Go now.”

One second later, Roni was on the run again. She prayed with each step, something she couldn't recall doing before.

Donny sat in front of several computer monitors, his hands in his lap. He did nothing more than stare.

“This is Donny,” Royce said. “Donny? There's someone here to meet you.” He didn't respond.

Jeremy expected a young teenager but instead saw a thin twenty-something with uncombed hair. He sat like a statue, eyes fixed on scrolling code that meant nothing to anyone but him.

“He's off-planet.” Royce looked embarrassed by her comment. “It's a phrase we use when Donny isn't responding. He seems to block out everything around him.”

“Does he just stare at the monitors?”

“No, usually he's pounding on one of the keyboards.” Stanley moved past Jeremy and stepped to his son's side. “Sometimes he types all night. Well, he used to. I mean, once we lost power…”

“Tell him, Stanley,” Royce said. It wasn't a suggestion.

Stanley looked at Jeremy and Irwin. “You won't believe me.”

“I've seen a great deal, Mr. Elton. I can pretty much believe anything.”

Stanley looked at his son. “We didn't lose power when everyone else did. I mean, eight months ago. My office went dark. The whole city went dark. So did every condo in this complex. Every unit but ours.”

“You need to explain that,” Jeremy said.

“I wish I could, but I can't. We kept it secret of course. You can imagine the danger we faced if everyone on Coronado learned we had power when they didn't. That kept us going for a long time, but then a while back, it just quit. It came back on when everyone else's in Coronado did. I understand we have the Navy to thank for that.”

“There are countless people to thank, including those who got the portion of the grid that feeds this area up and running.” Jeremy moved closer to the monitors. “Are you telling me he wrote this code?”

“He's a savant,” Royce said. “He's incapable of caring for himself. His communication is limited to a few words, and
oatmeal
is his favorite. He uses it for everything. Like other savants, he's extremely gifted in one area but incapable of dealing with normal activities.”

“Oatmeal,” Donny said, parroting the word.

“Does he know what he's doing?”

Royce shrugged. “That's hard to say. Some savants do what they do without thought. It's instinct to them. Donny is only happy in front of a computer.” A moment later, “He gave it up for a while. After everything went south. Covered up the monitors with blankets and sheets. A day or two ago, he picked it up again.”

“Except he never did surf the Net. He writes this gibberish.” Stanley ran his hand over Donny's head.

“I don't think it's gibberish, Mr. Elton.” Jeremy's stomach flipped. He turned to Donny. “Hi. Donny. My name is General Jeremy Matisse. I got your message.”

Donny blinked, turned his attention to Jeremy, and began to weep. “Shadow, shadow on my right. Shadow, shadow on my left. Shadow, shadow everywhere. Shadow has all the might.”

He sobbed.

Roni rounded the corner that led to the presidential wing and to the large meeting area outside his apartment. A security agent started to stop her when a voice bellowed through the area: “Let her in.” The voice belonged to a man she had only met once since coming to Mount Weather, Vice President Franklin Grundy.

She sprinted around chairs and sofas. President Barlow lay on his back. A large contusion grew over his right eye. Roni dropped to her knees. “How long has he been out?”

Grundy answered. “Four minutes. I looked at my watch.”

“Has he been unconscious the whole time?”

“Yes.”

She searched for a pulse. “The head wound. From the fall?”

“Yes.”

Roni looked up. Admiral Radcliffe and Secretary of State Baker stood next to Grundy. She returned her gaze to the man on the floor. His skin was pale and his eyes at half-mast. She found no pulse, and he wasn't breathing. “Who knows CPR?”

No one spoke, so Roni did. “Get down here, Admiral.”

He didn't hesitate. “Tell me what to do.”

Roni tilted the president's head back and pulled open his mouth. She ran a finger over his tongue, searching for vomitus. She leaned forward and placed her open mouth over his and forced three breaths down his trachea. His chest rose and fell. “I'm going to do compressions. Every time I say ‘five,' you breathe for him. Don't be shy about it.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Roni ripped open Barlow's shirt, not to make compressions easier but to save time when the crash cart arrived. She put one hand over the other, placed the heel of her hand on the president's sternum, arched forward and pushed. “One, two, three, four, five…” She paused a second to let Barlow's lungs fill and then started compressions again.

She was sweating by the time the medics arrived. She called for an airway, an Ambu bag, and the defibrillator.

The medical staff worked with practiced precision. Roni heard a gasp and then, “Oh, dear God, no.” She didn't look. She didn't have time, but she had no doubt the president's wife had arrived.

They loaded Barlow on a gurney. Roni climbed on the wheeled stretcher, straddled the president's body, and continued CPR.

Twenty minutes later, in the medical complex, Roni declared the president dead with the full agreement of the head physician. Katey dissolved into tears. Her son and daughter had arrived. Their tears joined hers. The area where they had worked on the president was limited to only those working to save his life. Security took charge of the location. The family and advisors waited in a side room. Admiral Radcliffe took the news like a military man, with all his emotions locked down. He turned to Grundy. “Any orders, Mr. President?”

“Yes. Someone get me a chair.”

J
eremy held Donny for several moments, letting him weep on his shoulder. He wasn't sure what had triggered the sudden outburst, but it was heartfelt. The sobs came and went. Just when Jeremy thought Donny was regaining composure, he would descend into despair again.

“Is he normally like this?” Jeremy turned his head enough to see Royce. Tears wet her face.

“No. He didn't even cry as a baby.”

“How does he know you, General?” Stanley kept his voice low.

“I have no idea. Nor can I imagine how he could hack the military network.” He pushed Donny away so he could look in his eyes. “Hey, buddy. Feeling better?”

Donny didn't speak. His lip quivered and he looked as frightened as any man Jeremy had ever seen. “Does he understand me?”

“He understands a few things, but we're never quite sure what. He so seldom responds beyond a few words.

Jeremy put a hand on Donny's shoulder. “Hey, pal. How about it? Do you understand me.”

No response.

“May I look at your computers?”

Donny shot to his feet and stepped to the side, making room for Jeremy to sit.

“Thank you.” Jeremy took the seat. It felt warm.

Donny ran from the room. His mother followed. A moment later, Jeremy heard an electric whine. Stanley and Irwin stepped aside as Donny drove his electric wheelchair into the room. He maneuvered like a NASCAR driver and pulled next to Jeremy. His eyes were still red, but he now showed a new enthusiasm. “Oatmeal.”

“Oatmeal indeed.” Jeremy set his hand on the keyboard. It was sticky, and he might have pulled back if the streaming code hadn't pulled him in. “This may take a few minutes.”

“Just a few, sir?” Irwin asked.

“Days.” He looked at Donny. “I'm betting Donny here understands more than we give him credit for.” Jeremy pushed the keyboard toward the savant.

Donny looked at it and then at Jeremy. He giggled.

Jeremy chuckled then said, “Stuxnet.”

A few moments later, Donny had scrolled through the code and stopped. Jeremy recognized several lines. They were similar to the famous code but not identical. Material had been added.

“A question, sir,” Irwin said.

“Let's hear it.”

“Shouldn't these computers have been wiped clean like all the other computers in the world?”

“Yes.”

“But they weren't. Why?”

“I don't know,” Jeremy said. “Something is beyond weird.”

“Shadow, shadow.” Donny uttered the words softly, his gaze directed at Irwin. Was he answering the question?

Jeremy pointed at the center monitor. “Shadow?”

Donny put his fingers over the keyboard but then hesitated. His hands shook until his fingers touched the keys. Tap. Tap. Tap. The lines of code scrolled and then stopped. Donny pointed to the center of the screen. “Shadow. Shadow. Shadow.”