Palm Sunday (14 page)

Read Palm Sunday Online

Authors: William R. Vitanyi Jr.

Tags: #Thrillers, #Espionage, #Fiction

BOOK: Palm Sunday
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There was suddenly a loud thump as Bobby rolled off the couch, where he had been sleeping. He stood up and looked around, confused by his surroundings.

Stanley walked over to him. “It’s okay, Bobby, I’m right here.”

The boy looked at his father and climbed back onto the couch. “I’m tired.” His eyes closed as he curled up.

“You want to stay there?” asked Stanley.

“Yeah.” He was already drifting off.

Slocum said, “I’ll get a blanket and pillow.” He left the room and came back shortly with the promised items, handing them to Stanley.

“Thanks.” He placed the pillow under his son’s head and covered him with the blanket.

“Night, Dad.”

“Good night, son.” Stanley bent down and kissed him on the forehead.

Slocum turned away. He had never had a son, and figured he probably never would. But deep inside he yearned for–something. Continuity of his line, perhaps, or maybe it was something deeper, more elemental. He shook his head, clearing away the sentimental thoughts. He motioned for Stanley to join him in the kitchen, where their conversation would not disturb Bobby.

“You seem to be making progress with the files, but do you think you can come up with a way to hack into the agency’s database?”

“That’s the ultimate goal,” said Stanley. “But right now we don’t have enough information to even try. After I see the analysis of that file tomorrow we may have something to go on.”

“Will you have the freedom to do that at work?” asked Slocum.

“I generally work fairly independently. It shouldn’t be a problem.” He couldn’t have been more wrong. 

***

Stanley wanted to get to work early the next morning, but he was late getting Bobby to school, so it was impossible. Katherine and Boyd were both already there when he arrived. Katherine heard him rustling around in his cubicle and walked over.

“Morning, Stanley.”

“Hi, Katherine. What’s up?”

“Not much. Boyd’s onto something.”

“What do you mean?”

She gestured with her head towards the computer room, a large glass-enclosed affair. “Apparently something hit the firewall last night. He thinks it might have been a virus. You know Boyd and security. If someone’s trying to break in, it’s no holds barred.”

She was right. Boyd had been known to trace hostile viruses back to their point of origin, and in at least one case had used the same virus to infect the sender’s computer. He didn’t take credit for that one, not officially, but the grin that he had worn around for two days said it all.

“I’ll be right back,” said Stanley. He hurried in to see Boyd, and was immediately concerned when he saw the look on his face. “What’s up?”

“You tell me,” said Boyd.

“What do you mean?”

Boyd didn’t look up from the screen as he worked the keyboard. “You’ve been experimenting with the interface, haven’t you?”

“Not really,” said Stanley. “I sent one file last night, but it wasn’t part of a full regimen.”

“What kind of file?”

Now here was a dilemma. Stanley couldn’t tell him what kind of file it was, because that’s what he was trying to find out. And if he didn’t know what kind of file it was, he shouldn’t have sent it into the company’s system.

“Why, what’s the problem?” Neatly dodged.

“I asked you what kind of file it is.” As Stanley remained silent, Boyd continued. “The thing is, it’s not acting like anything I’ve ever seen. The inner firewall is, I don’t know, confused.”

Stanley was alarmed. “Did you say the file made it to the inner firewall?”

There were two distinct layers of security; the primary firewall protected the company’s regular systems. The inner firewall worked exclusively with the experimental interface they were designing. Stanley had expected that the file would be processed and discarded, not transferred to the inner firewall.

“Yeah. It was sitting in the buffer when I got in this morning. The security protocol should have booted it right out. Tried to, in fact. But every time it seems to be purged, it…mutates.”

“Mutates? What do you mean?”

“The thing changes,” said Boyd. “Name, size, type–it just keeps changing. Like it’s alive, man.” Boyd looked back at the monitor. “See, it just got purged again, then it came back. Damn thing’s resilient.”

Stanley watched as Boyd fruitlessly tried to disgorge the unwanted visitor. “Boyd, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

“The file I sent last night…”

“Uh huh…”

“It never should have hit the inner firewall.”

“What do you mean?”

Stanley took a deep breath. “I set it to feed to the interface, but it should have kicked out before it got that far.”

For a moment Boyd just stared at him. “That’s impossible. The interface isn’t configured to pass anything through right now.”

“That’s what scares me,” said Stanley. “This thing got through.”

“It’s only a file. It can’t do what you’re suggesting.”

Stanley pointed at the monitor. “We need to look at that file very closely.”

 Boyd’s next words were chilling. “I don’t know how.”

They looked helplessly at the console. The intruder disappeared, only to materialize in a different form twenty seconds later.

Boyd stood up and pushed his chair back. “I’m going to isolate the inner firewall, disconnect it at both ends. We can configure another box to replace this one, but I want this machine off the network until I figure out what’s going on.” He didn’t shut down the computer, but simply unhooked the sets of cables that joined it to their system and the experimental interface. “And don’t think you’re not going to tell me what’s going on.”

Stanley bent down to help with one of the cables. “I can’t give you all the details right now, because I was doing a favor for a friend.”

“Yeah, right,” said Boyd. “It’s always that mysterious other person.”

“No, really. He works for another company and he wanted me to take a look at this file. He wasn’t sure what it was, and neither was I, so I thought I’d let the firewall isolate it.”

“You figured the log would show basic file information, right?”

Stanley slowly nodded. “Yes.”

“Did it?”

That stopped him. He hadn’t had a chance to check yet. “I don’t know. I came in here as soon as Katherine mentioned there was a problem.”

“Then let’s have a look.”

They moved to the main console, and Boyd sat down in front of the display. It was typical that he would place himself in charge.

“Let’s see.” He scrolled through several pages of log entries. “Nothing in here for last night. In fact, nothing here about any downloads since our test yesterday. That one shows up crystal clear. One binary encoded, non-destructive file passed through the interface at two thirty-seven. Since then, nada.”

Stanley leaned down and looked over Boyd’s shoulder. “That can’t be. If it got through, which it obviously did, there would have to be an entry.”

“Are you sure you named it correctly?”

“Boyd…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you can see there’s nothing showing.”

“This is crazy,” said Stanley, straightening. “The system wouldn’t let it through without logging it.”

“Hey, don’t whine to me about it. You and your friend are the ones who infected us.”

“We’re not infected.”

Boyd looked at Stanley from the corner of his eye. “Then what’s that thing swimming around in my firewall?”

“Okay, it’s my fault. So I’ll take care of it.”

“Damn straight you will,” said Boyd. “I don’t have time to go chasing gremlins around the system. Mr. Klugman expects me to focus on the project, and we need that firewall back online. Today.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

Boyd logged off the system, then got up and left the computer room in a huff. He was upset, Stanley knew, because he couldn’t figure out the bizarre file that had taken up residence in the firewall. At least it had been stopped there. Stanley went for a cup of coffee. It was going to be a long day, and he needed a kick-start. 

***

Agent Sharon was not a happy camper. The event had recurred several times, and he knew it was originating from somewhere in the massive fiber bundle near Philadelphia. All he needed now was to install the taps he had requested along the affected segment of the information grid, and the source would eventually be pinpointed. Then had come word from Roberts that there would be no taps.

“I’m sorry,” said Roberts. “But Legal was adamant. No taps on the Internet without evidence of a crime, or a demonstrable threat to the infrastructure. The risk of exposure is too great.”

“With all due respect, that’s not a legal opinion. It’s a political judgment.”

“Get real, Sharon. You know as well as I do that these things don’t happen in a vacuum. Legal and the Director are on the same page. It’s just not as cut and dried as you make it sound.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” said Sharon. “If someone is messing with the information grid, we’re in serious trouble.”

“Everyone is sympathetic to that, Jim, believe me. Get me some evidence that the lines are being compromised, and I’ll get you those taps.”

“Like I told you before, I need the taps to get the evidence.” It was a lost cause, and Sharon knew it.

“Things have changed, my friend, but not that much.”

There was nothing left he could say, Sharon knew. “Fine. We’ll find some other way.” He gently dropped the receiver into the cradle, his anger seething beneath a calm exterior. It wasn’t enough to fight whoever was trying to infiltrate the Net–and he was certain that someone was–now he had to battle his own people. Unfortunately, without the taps, he was running out of options. They had narrowed down the location of the event as much as they could.

As he pondered his next move, he suddenly recalled an incident from high school. His science teacher had once posed a complex problem, and asked what information could be provided to help solve it. The more intellectually inclined students came up with all manner of measurements and scientific facts to help derive a solution. The teacher kept saying no. Finally one student slowly raised his hand, and the teacher pointed at him.

“Give them a reference,” he had said. The teacher slowly nodded in the affirmative. That student wasn’t known for his grades, but he got the answer right, and his name was Jim Sharon. Sharon thought that his old science teacher was probably cut from the same cloth as Justin’s engineering professor, Harold Walthrop. And Walthrop had come up with a unique way to monitor a data stream. Perhaps it was time to enlist the help of an outsider. 

***

The lake was smooth as glass, and puffy white clouds floated gently across the midday sky as Kayoko sat in meditation, pondering her place in the universe. She closed her eyes, and everything around her–the cool wind softly caressing her cheeks, the faint sound of rustling leaves, a bird quietly foraging for insects–merged into a harmonious blend.

It was from within this tranquility that she hoped to make sense of the turmoil that surrounded her workplace. In her role at the agency she felt alone, isolated, and without allies. While she believed in what they had started out doing years earlier, she now foresaw a path that could only lead to disaster, yet she felt powerless to stop it. She could quit, of course, but that would solve nothing, avert nothing. To continue producing results would only propel the agency faster along their current path, but to stop meant her dismissal, and she desired neither.

That Snelling was suspicious of her was clear, but she doubted that he knew for certain that it was she who had been into his computer. Otherwise he would have presented the evidence to Mason and had her terminated. Or would he? Did he have an agenda of his own? He had, after all, altered the profile results, or so she believed. She was bombarded with these and other thoughts as she strove to empty her mind. But the clutter was simply too great, and heaving a final sigh, she slowly opened her eyes and looked around.

Nothing was settled, and she was still confused and uncertain as to her next move. Unfolding her legs, she stood up and slowly walked along the lakeshore for a short distance, stopping among a growth of small pine trees. She wondered why the three grew side-by-side, rather than spread out. She was no biologist, but supposed it was to help protect each other from the elements. She walked past the trees, stopped when she had gone about five paces, and whirled around. That was it.

She felt alone, unsupported, just as the trees would be if they were too far apart. She would have to find an ally, both to help her stop what the agency was doing, and for mutual protection from the storm that was sure to come. It was not an easy task that faced her, but at least now she knew what she had to do. She thought it peculiar that such a simple thing required so much effort to realize. Kayoko shook her head and smiled at the revelation. The question now was, who would be her ally? 

***

Tom Snelling hovered over Norbert’s workstation. Norbert barely even looked up from his keyboard as he reported on the security sweep he had run. “Nothing showed up,” he said.

Snelling wouldn’t let it go. “I’m telling you, someone was messing with my computer. The screen was changed when I returned from my meeting with Mr. Mason.”

Norbert smiled. “Well, in that case I think we found the problem.” He didn’t care for Snelling, and right now he had more important things to worry about than Tom’s paranoia.

“Really?”

“Yes. You shouldn’t leave your computer unsecured when you go away from your desk for extended periods. While I can’t tell you why your screen changed, I will be sure to send Mr. Mason my report on your security lapses. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

Snelling glowered at Norbert. “Mason’s not going to like your attitude. I’m going right up there and let him know that you aren’t responding to my request.”

“Go right ahead. I just sent him my final report on the matter. Maybe if you run you can get there before he reads it.”

Snelling considered a retort, but simply glared at Norbert with undisguised hostility before hurrying from the room. Like a petulant child whose needs had gone unmet, he would appeal to a higher authority.

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