Genius Squad (17 page)

Upon hearing this, Cadel pricked up his ears.

‘Dot?’ he said. ‘You mean Com’s sister?’

‘She’s downstairs,’ Hamish mumbled, spraying rice across the tablecloth. And Trader laughed at Cadel’s bewilderment.

‘Have you forgotten about the War Room?’ said Trader. ‘We still have to show you that.’

‘All in good time,’ growled Cliff, who then proceeded to explain that when Sonja finally arrived, on Tuesday morning, she would become part of Judith’s Forensic Accounting team – along with Tony Cheung. ‘Al Capone was a murderer, but he was finally gaoled for tax evasion,’ Cliff remarked in his gravelly voice. ‘Maybe we can bring GenoME down by finding out where its profits come from, and where they go.’ As for the Recon team, its membership was confined to adults: it was made up of Cliff, Zac and Trader. ‘You need experience when you’re dealing with the real world,’ Cliff announced, with a repressive glance at Devin. ‘Virtual reality is for cutting your teeth on.’

Then Trader took over again. He explained that Cliff was a highly experienced private detective, while he himself had been trained in covert operations, specialising in spyware and the breaching of physical security (like alarm systems, for instance). Zac, on the other hand, had been chosen for his background in genetic research. His chief contribution would be made when they finally
did
manage to acquire GenoME’s secret gene-plotting formula: it would be Zac’s job to work out whether the infamous formula was really a big fraud. Meanwhile, he would run errands, help around the house, and collect information by posing as a new GenoME client.

‘He’ll be our Node-in-Residence,’ Hamish snorted, much to Cadel’s confusion. Whereupon Trader stepped in to interpret.

‘GenoME calls its clients “nodes”,’ he said chirpily, ‘because each individual is at the intersecting point of a lot of genetic lines. Every client’s gene map, or genome, is called a “node-code”. And its counsellors are called “potentialisers”.’

‘GenoME likes to keep its language obscure,’ Judith interjected. ‘So its clients won’t understand much.’

‘I’m sending Zac in there as a client tomorrow,’ Cliff went on.

Cadel was taken aback. ‘You mean the Australian branch is already up and running?’ he said.

Around the table, everyone nodded. Some even grunted through mouths full of risotto.

‘Unfortunately, they took us by surprise,’ Trader confessed, his fork poised above his plate. ‘If we’d managed to enter their building before they set up, we could have installed a few bugs. But they moved very fast.’

‘And now that place is like a fortress,’ Cliff complained. When Cadel asked why, there was a general groan. Judith slapped down her ladle, and went over to an outlet that was fixed to the wall above the sink.

Then she flipped the switch, and addressed the socket.

‘Dot?’ she said. ‘Could you bring up your plan for number eleven, please? Thanks.’

As Judith returned to the table, and settled into her own chair, Cliff began to describe Australia’s new GenoME branch at 11 Karajan Close, Burwood. According to Cliff, it was a freestanding structure with a drainage channel on one side, a petrol station on the other, and a big cement car park at the rear. As a result, there was no way of burrowing into any of its walls from an adjacent building. In fact there was no way of approaching the branch at
all
without being seen. However, Cliff had managed to secure a plan of its layout from the local municipal council, because GenoME had submitted a development application before installing a laboratory on the first floor of its premises.

‘The lab processes DNA samples.’ Cliff paused for a moment, to swallow a mouthful of food. And Trader took up where Cliff had left off.

‘There are two lab technicians,’ Trader said, ‘who input Australian DNA profiles. The details are then sent to the US for “interpretation”, and the results come back pretty quickly. Over in America, GenoME has a huge databank full of node-codes.’

‘So the system here and the system there must be linked,’ Lexi announced. ‘It’s our access point to the US network.’

‘Except that it’s so well defended,’ her brother said gloomily. Cadel decided that Devin wasn’t a particularly happy sort of person. While Lexi bounced, Devin slouched. It seemed odd that they should be twins.

‘Apart from the two lab technicians, there are five potentialisers, one marketing manager, one receptionist, and two information technology people,’ Trader continued. ‘And there’s the branch director, of course. Carolina Whitehead.’

‘She’s our number one target,’ Judith remarked, from the other end of the table. ‘If we can get something on her, it’ll be a good start.’

‘Why?’ asked Cadel. At that moment, however – before anyone could respond – there was a disturbance in the pantry. Cadel turned his head just in time to see one stack of shelves disappear sideways into a wall cavity, along with their lavish stock of tinned fruit and condiment bottles. Amazed, he realised that the shelves were actually a heavily disguised sliding door, and that the door itself belonged to an elevator. Stepping out of the elevator was Dot, who carried a laptop under her arm.

‘Ah. There she is,’ said Trader. ‘Can you call up that map for us, Dot? We need to show Cadel.’ Then, with a sudden smirk, he remembered his manners. ‘By the way, I don’t know if you’ve been formally introduced. This is Cadel, your new colleague. Cadel, this is Dot.’

Dot made a clicking noise – which may or may not have meant ‘hello’ – and deposited her laptop on the table near Cliff. She barely glanced at Cadel, preferring to focus her attention on her search for the required data.

Cadel, who had just placed a wad of sticky risotto on his tongue, munched away desperately; he was keen to ask her about Com, and couldn’t do so until he had swallowed what was in his mouth. But he wasn’t given the opportunity to speak. He still hadn’t finished chewing when Dot cleared her throat, stepping back from the computer screen as if to announce that her job was done.

Cliff pushed the laptop towards him, indicating a portion of the displayed blueprint.

‘As you can see, the GenoME branch is three storeys high, with a big warehouse area stuck on the back,’ Cliff said. Crisply he proceeded to label all the rooms shown in the building plan, including the reception area, the conference room, the kitchenette, the lab, the bathrooms and all the numerous offices. He even knew which offices belonged to which staff members.

Cadel wondered how.

‘And then there’s the warehouse,’ Cliff said, tapping the screen with a blunt, squared-off finger. ‘What’s interesting about it is that GenoME’s put a demountable shed in there. We know they did because the building is leased, and GenoME had to get permission from the owner to install a shed. We also know that the shed is being used for secret meetings.’

Cadel blinked. ‘How?’ he asked. ‘I mean, how do you know about the meetings if they’re secret? And how did you find out about the owner’s permission?’

Trader and Cliff exchanged glances. Wide grins blossomed all around the table. Finally Trader reached across and gave Cliff a playful jab on the shoulder. ‘We can thank Cliff for his work in the real estate agency,’ Trader said. ‘He’s good at getting hold of confidential files.’

‘And we can thank Trader’s spyware for everything else,’ Cliff rejoined. ‘Laser eavesdropping is a marvellous thing.’

Seeing Cadel’s amazement, Trader expanded on the subject. ‘We trained our lasers on some of GenoME’s windows when people were talking inside. And we measured the vibrations of their voices on the glass.’ He wiped his mouth on a paper napkin. ‘Believe me, it’s not foolproof. I would have preferred an old-fashioned bug. Trouble is, GenoME’s security is so tight that I didn’t want to risk arousing their suspicions.’

Trader described how his eavesdropping device had been set up in a series of different cars, and the cars parked in various locations near the GenoME building. From information collected during these ‘probes’, it had been established that Carolina never seemed to discuss anything even mildly controversial with her staff in any of the offices. Occasionally, however, she would ask her second-in-command, information technology manager Jerry Reinhard, to ‘step out the back for a quick word’.

Jerry and Carolina were the only Americans working in the branch.

‘The potentialisers all trained in the US for years, but they were born in Australia and New Zealand,’ Cliff said. He was about to elaborate when Zac spoke up for the first time. Pushing aside his empty plate, Zac remarked in his gentle, breathy voice, ‘From what I’ve heard, they’re true believers.’

All eyes swivelled in his direction. Conscious of this, Zac presented his argument slowly and carefully.

‘You’ve read the transcripts, haven’t you?’ he said. ‘I think everyone here would have to agree that most of the staff in that place are being conned. They all sound as if they’re buying into the GenoME propaganda.’

But Cliff shook his head.

‘Doesn’t mean a thing,’ he countered gruffly. ‘You know how security-conscious they are. For all we know, there’s a policy about keeping their talk squeaky clean in any room with windows.’ Bridling at Lexi’s derisive snort, he added, ‘Hey – it’s possible. There’s a policy about everything in GenoME.’

‘So what?’ said Lexi, and Judith patted Zac’s arm.

‘I’m with Zac,’ said Judith. ‘I reckon Jerry and Carolina are the only ones in that place who really know what’s going on. Because they’re the only ones who have secret confabs in the shed.’

‘Boy, I wish we could get into that shed,’ mumbled Devin. And Trader said, ‘We have to get into the building first.’

There was a brief pause. Most of the diners had finished eating, though Dot hadn’t even started. She was standing behind Cliff, attentive but expressionless, her hands clasped in front of her. It occurred to Cadel that she possessed the same slightly robotic air as her brother. Certainly she was no more talkative than Com had been. And her face didn’t move much. Tony Cheung, who had also been very quiet, didn’t seem nearly as detached as Dot because he kept responding to what was being said, frowning or nodding or pursing his lips.

‘Any questions?’ Cliff inquired. All movement ceased as Cadel found himself the object of general scrutiny. Even Judith had stopped eating.

He gazed around, suddenly aware that he was the smallest person in sight.

‘I – uh – yes,’ he said, and turned to Trader. ‘Can I check out that laser eavesdropping machine?’

Trader laughed. He pushed back his chair, and leapt to his feet. Then he slapped Cadel’s shoulder.

‘I think it’s time you checked out
everything
in the War Room,’ he said. ‘I mean, who needs dessert when you can sink your teeth into the stuff we’ve got downstairs?’

Then he conducted Cadel to the elevator, ignoring Lexi’s protests about washing-up duty.

FIFTEEN

The War Room contained no windows. It was a large, air-conditioned concrete bunker, lined with desks and packed with technology. Cadel had never in his life seen so much cabling or hard-drive capacity stored in one place.

‘Disguising our power consumption is quite a chore,’ Trader admitted, stepping out of the lift ahead of Cadel. ‘But there are ways of spreading the load a bit. Hydroponic cannabis growers do it all the time.’ He stopped beside one of the pale-grey desks, which perfectly matched the grey concrete floor and walls. ‘Here’s your workstation, Cadel. And this is your laptop.’ He lightly touched a wedge of black steel and plastic. ‘As you can see,’ he said, ‘it’s been custom built for our requirements.’

Cadel’s breath caught in his throat. The laptop was like nothing he’d ever seen before; its size and weight hinted at the beefed-up capacities lurking within. Reverently he popped open the screen, and ran his fingers over the keyboard. ‘Not exactly portable,’ said Trader. ‘Not for someone your size.’

‘It’s
beautiful
,’ Cadel breathed.

‘You think so?’ Trader seemed amused. ‘I think it’s ugly as hell, myself. Personally I prefer my technology sleek and slimline – otherwise you can’t hide it.’ He spread his hands. ‘However, since you won’t be getting out much, I don’t suppose it matters how big this thing is.’

Cadel looked up, momentarily distracted from his loving contemplation of the computer.

‘What do you mean, I won’t be getting out much?’ he asked.

‘Well – it’s Recon that does most of the legwork around here,’ Trader replied. ‘And we wouldn’t want you going anywhere near the new branch, in case you’re recognised. Don’t forget that Dr Darkkon founded GenoME. It’s possible that most of the senior staff there know who you are.’

‘Oh,’ said Cadel. He could see what Trader was getting at. It made sense to keep a low profile, though Cadel was anxious to inspect the GenoME building in person.

Under cover of darkness, perhaps?

‘Anyway, you won’t need to stake out that place,’ Trader continued, as if reading Cadel’s thoughts. ‘Your job is to penetrate their computer network, and we’ve got everything you need for that right here.’ Flinging out his arms in a theatrical gesture, Trader indicated exactly what they did have. ‘What do you think? Pretty impressive, eh?’

‘It’s wonderful.’ Cadel couldn’t have been more earnest in his praise. After enduring such a long technological drought, he felt as if he had wandered through the gates of paradise. ‘Is this why everyone agreed to join Genius Squad? Because of all the equipment?’ he said.

Trader laughed. He informed Cadel that the motivations of their fellow squad members were many and varied. For someone like Tony Cheung, the motivation was money, pure and simple. Judith’s rationale was more complex. She hated big corporations (having previously worked for one), and believed that they were responsible for most of the world’s miseries. As a result, she believed that toppling a large and sinister organisation like GenoME was the right thing to do. In fact, she was quite happy getting paid for doing what she normally did as a hobby.

‘Judith doesn’t believe in paying personal income tax when most of the world’s biggest corporations are tax dodgers,’ Trader revealed. ‘She likes ferreting out their dirty secrets in her spare time, and leaking the details to various government authorities.’ His green eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Just don’t get her started on the subject of tax havens,’ he warned, ‘or she’ll never shut up.’