Lost Past (21 page)

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Authors: Teresa McCullough,Zachary McCullough

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Fiction, #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Lost Past
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What if some of the area supposedly used for water purifying was used for something else? There were stories she watched earlier. What was it? Everyone went once every couple of years for treatment, whatever that was. They never showed the treatment, but it was considered an acceptable excuse to avoid anything. In one case, a notice went out saying a certain person was due for treatment and he was currently in a purple room, whose location was given.

             
That meant
whoever gave the treatment knew the location of people. There must be a signal, and it must be read. There was always the possibility that whoever read the signals never opened their computers to the
Vigintees
. She remembered her mentor,
Takeuti
, telling her that if you wanted a completely secure system, there should be no connections to the outside. There was a story about a virus getting into Defense Department computers because someone on an aircraft carrier wired his computer both to a secure system and to the Internet. She suspected someone was watching the computer she used. That would mean there would be an opening to get into the watchers’ computers.

INTERLUDE 3

 

             
“She’s good,” signed
Jorxt
Bud
IX. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the skills to completely follow what she’s doing.”

             
Jorxt
considered the possibility of hiring someone to look into it, but didn’t think he could trust anyone. A bet that the
Vigintees
’ computers would be disrupted wouldn’t
be
a good idea. If he suspected they would be disrupted, he should stop the disruption rather than bet on it.

             
The betting wasn’t as appealing as it was before. He was now financially secure, between his Buds’ income and his winnings. He’d won. His Buds weren’t doing dangerous jobs, which meant they would be likely to produce income for many years. Perhaps if he just budded regularly, he could retire. It wasn’t as if he had to save up for a budding permit anymore.

             
On the other hand, he was enjoying his svelte self. Carrying all that extra bulk was awkward. If he wanted to do something different, he could have a child.
Saxant
would be a good genetic match. No, he’d probably want to parent.
Jorxt
didn’t want to share the parenting; he wanted to do things his way.
Saxant
would spend too much time on moral training, and not enough time on what was important.
Jorxt
would enjoy teaching a child how to take advantage of opportunities. Few
Plict
were as good at working the system as
Jorxt
wa
s.

             
Jorxt
Bud
IX left while
Jorxt
went through the list of a number of other possible parents. Realizing his Bud was left to his own devices,
Jorxt
called him back. “Learn as much as you can about computers. That may be your new job when you leave.”

             
It was tempting to just let a Bud be a servant for the first few months when they were loyal, but they had the ability to learn quickly, and
Jorxt
insisted that they use it. A well-trained Bud could earn more.
If IX became a computer expert, so much the better.
There was no point in being nice and giving a Bud free time. Recreation or even service wasted the narrow window when a Bud learned easily. The Buds wouldn’t remain loyal no matter how nicely they were treated, which meant all their free time should be spent learning, since a quarter of their incomes would go to their progenitors.

             
Jorxt
turned to the computer to try to find out what Linda Saunders was doing. It promised to be more interesting than learning more computer skills. Also, he was beginning to think he might learn something from her.

Chapter
15

 

             
“Sleep,” Wilson said.

             
Linda looked at him, not understanding.

             
“You didn’t sleep. You’re going to do so now.”

             
“What gives you the right to order me around?” Linda asked. The bed of cloth was just as Wilson left it, which explained how he knew she didn’t sleep.

             
“Your lack of common sense. Staying up all night isn’t good.”

             
“You said we might be denied access. I had to make sure we still had it.”

             
“Did you?”

             
“I think so. I programmed a backdoor.”
Among other things.

             
Wilson took her hand and pulled her to a standing position. Unresisting, she let him lead her back to their shared room. She allowed herself to collapse and sleep.

             
When she woke up, she grabbed a meal bar while checking her computer, which showed one of her traps paid off. Someone is watching us, she realized. It didn’t take her long to figure out where the cameras were in their apartment. She had a whiteboard marker in her purse and covered the mirrored wall with a large spot. She watched the computer screen with satisfaction as the room disappeared behind the blue mark. Five cameras for their small apartment seemed excessive, but she covered each one.

             
Considering the observation of her, she wasn’t
sure she should check the website she set up hoping her father would find
, but she couldn’t resist. The message
she received
was brief and to the point: “
captive in bunker on island nature preserve John with me coordinate numbers 455402 305541
” The coding was simple, one for A, two for B and so on, with space and base six digits following the alphabet.
             

Dad was alive! So was John! Her father tried to teach her not to agonize over things beyond her control, but she couldn’t control her worry. She may have hidden it from herself, but it was there, as demonstrated by the surge of relief she felt. She stretched and enjoyed the happy rush of feelings and then went back to work.

             
Vigintees
’ computers had almost no information about the world outside
Vigint
City. She needed to tap into a
Plict
computer to do that. It was risky, because she suspected that the
Plict
were much more careful about security on their computers than on
Vigintees
’ computers. Her father obviously had limited access to a computer. Probably they were allowing him to view things, but not send messages. She was
glad things
worked similarly to the Internet on Earth. Every request for information sent out information and came back with information. There were enough external requests for information in the
Vigintees
’ computers that she was able to get her program onto their Internet. It set up a webpage she named Linda, in the same code her father sent a message. If he had unlimited access, he could send her a detailed message. He didn’t.
He sent her a short message that was hidden in a request for something else on her webpage.

             
After a little thought, she wrote up a detailed summary of their status and put it on the “Linda” webpage. She hoped he would be able to view it.

             
Cara and Wilson came back together. “What’s this?” Cara asked.

             
“Cameras,” Linda said.

             
Linda’s telepathy was fast in picking up Wilson’s anger. She could almost always access mood, although specific thoughts came about once a day. Before she could comment that he was overreacting, she realized he was angry with her. He didn’t say anything, but
she recognized her stupidity. She let the watchers know she was tapping into their computers. She blushed at her error and was annoyed with her blush. Wilson put his hand up to his ear and moved it back and forth. Finally catching on, she shrugged, indicating that she had no idea if there were microphones. She suspected there were, but couldn’t find them.

             
Linda took a handkerchief and cleared off the camera-covering spots. If she was very lucky, no one noticed it. There were cameras everywhere and she doubted most were monitored. The pictures were sent to the
Plict
, which meant the
Vigintees
might not even know about them.

             
She had a moral dilemma and wanted to talk to someone about it. Twice in the past, she hacked into computers in unacceptable ways. The first time was when a very annoying English teacher told her he didn’t care how important her father was, she was getting a C. She never asked for a grade because of her father, but she thought she did B work. She arranged it so whenever he signed onto the high school computer, the computer made a rude noise. The second time was when she heard a rumor that football players had grades raised by the provost at her college. She arranged an email to be sent to the press if it ever happened. When it was discovered, her mentor,
Takeuti
, sent her an email, saying her behavior was not a worthy application of her talents, which suggested that not everyone was fooled.

             
Her summer internships gave her ample opportunities to hack in a socially acceptable manner, but she wanted to know what was the right thing to do. She had no problems destroying the usefulness of
Vigintees
’ computers. They kidnapped her and her father, and killed her mother and the passengers on her father’s flight. They also messed up American com
munication
. It would be fitting to mess up their society with a similar attack.

             
Yet she wasn’t a soldier, and people could die. But she wasn’t a pacifist either. She knew her computer skills were probably a better weapon than the gun she carried in her purse, she just didn’t know if bringing down their computers would be a good idea.

             
The real issue was
Plict
society. She knew nothing about the
Plict
, and had no idea what would happen if she introduced her destructive program into their computers. If it were like Earth, a virus checker would be reprogrammed in days to find her code, leaving relatively minor problems occurring due to corrupted data. But if they didn’t have such things, her code could be very disruptive. Possibly it wouldn’t work, just as viruses for Windows didn’t attack Macs. The
Vigintees
machines might be primitive in comparison to the
Plict
machines.

             
Yet, there was a very sophisticated AI program in the computers. She might be able to adapt it to her needs.
Self-modifying code was frowned upon by computer scientists
, but it was an interesting challenge.

             
The question was not just could she do it, but should she. She longed for someone to help her make the decision, but with the likelihood of eavesdroppers, she realized she had to make it herself. The
Plict
supported the
Vigintees
and appeared to know what they were doing. She remembered Wilson’s earlier attitude, and thought he would approve.

             
No, that was a copout. He just approved of snooping, not of doing damage. The decision was hers. She looked things over again, as if the code could give her an answer.

             
She spent the next several hours refining things. She barely noticed Wilson and Cara return to share a meal with her. Wilson took some tools and did something to the door, but she neither knew nor cared what it was. What if things went wrong with her program? She
built a model to test it, but it was a small-scaled test and wouldn’t really mimic what she planned.

             
When Wilson and Cara came back to sleep, she stayed up. They couldn’t claim the lights bothered them, because the lights were always on, unless something went wrong. She ignored their pointed comments about her refusal to sleep and her not doing her share of the work. I’m doing it for them, too, she thought, although “them” primarily meant Wilson.

             
Hours after Wilson and Cara went to sleep
,
Linda suspected someone was tracking her. She might be shut down at any time, thus had no more leisure to agonize over the morality of it. There were many clues that she was tracked, and the computer in question would be perfect to use to get her program out. She set things in motion. She also put a copy of the program on the “Linda” webpage with instructions to Dad on how to use it.

             
Afterwards, she went to bed, feeling there was no more she could do. When she woke up, Cara and Wilson were gone. Linda’s body was a bit stiff from inadequate movement, and she needed a shower
. She decided to exercise first
and spent half an hour on the machine. She was finishing getting dressed when they returned.

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