Revolution World (7 page)

Max leapt to his feet and hastily wiped his mouth. He almost tripped over a waitress as he pulled Harmony's chair out for her.

"You cannot possibly be old enough to be their mother," he declared, kissing her hand outrageously. "No, I will not believe it. This must be the famous Texas twit I have heard so much about."

Harmony could help but laugh. "I believe you mean Texas twang, darlin'," she said, laying the twang as thick as she could.

"Ah yes," Max laughed. "And no doubt y'all is fixin' ta ride you a cow?" He said, enthusiastically mangling the accent.

They fell into easy conversation as plates of warm handmade tortillas, enchiladas, and fajitas competed for table space with pitchers of margaritas and beer. Since The Troubles, it was prohibitively expensive to import or export food. Which had an unexpected upside. People tended to focus more on their local cuisine. So while there wasn't a sushi restaurant for a hundred miles, the Tex-Mex and other local favorites were even better than before.

For all the advances in technology, most people found that the cheapest, tastiest and healthiest food was grown locally, eaten in season, and prepared using recipes from your area. And since most people didn't travel much, they had time to do things like keep a kitchen garden and cook their own dinner.

"So, I'm sorry, but what does your company do exactly?" Harmony asked.

"Omerta provides complete security solutions for a wide variety of businesses and organizations," Seth recited from the company brochure. He failed to notice as Harmony's eyebrows rose. She shot an inquiring look at Clio who nodded without taking her eyes off Seth.

Since The Troubles, more and more happened in the virtual world. All education from kindergarten to college was now done via globenet from the home. Most people worked at home or very close to home since travel was, for the most part, expensive and slow. Most businesses and governments did their work on the globenet. Omerta made sure that they could do this without worrying about their privacy.

"We protect people's secrets. Most governments and businesses use it. The most interesting are the mafias or other groups who mainly engage in illegal activities," Max informed them.

"But how do you do that?" asked Clio. "I mean, say someone stores all their information on your system. How do you keep a spy or hacker from impersonating the rightful owner and gaining access to their information?"

"Well, in order to access the data, your handheld takes several biometric readings. Everyone knows about the thumb print scanner these days, right?" replied Seth. The women nodded. "It also takes your pulse and temperature to make sure you are alive. One of the security features raises a red flag if your pulse is racing while you are trying to access secure data. It alerts the administrator of your network that there may be a problem."

Max cut in. "Your handheld also scans your retina and your face and compares it to what is on file. Another red flag goes up if your pupils are constricted or your face shows signs of stress or injury. So we know it's you accessing the data and we can tell if you are being forced or are otherwise under duress."

"So that's how your handheld knows to call emergency services or the police if you turn it on while you are having a heart attack?" asked Harmony. Seth nodded.

"I read about that," Clio said excitedly. "All those people that have been saved after an accident because the handheld knows to call for help. Amazing. Your code does that, but also protects a person's private data? How?"

"Abstract cryptography." Max answered. "I don't know how well you are acquainted with the mathematics of codes, but we are way beyond public-key encryption methods. We could discuss it further, but I would need to drink some coffee first. I believe this excellent beer has gotten the better of me." The women graciously declined a lecture on mathematics for the evening but Max called for coffee anyway.

Seth had finally noticed the salsa he dribbled down his arm thirty minutes ago and was trying to save his last stain-free shirt. It didn't look like he was having much luck.

"But why would the mafia put all their information in your care? What if the police demanded that you give them access to it?" Kalliope wanted to know.

Seth smiled as he continued to wipe ineffectively at his sleeve. "Ah, there is the secret to our success. We can't. We cannot access the data. It is mathematically impossible for anyone but the owners of the data to do that. And we use cloud computing so even if they came to one of our offices and took a server or even a hundred servers, they could not access the data. They could destroy a hundred servers and it would result in only a minimal loss of anyone's data. It's stored all over the world and all jumbled up. The encryption program reassembles it only for the owner. They could hit Queen Charlotte's Island with a bomb and it would only disrupt our clients minimally. Worst case scenario, they might lose a few memos or a few pages out of a book."

The women looked impressed. Seth was feeling very good about his job as he saw the admiration in Clio's eyes.

"And besides, no policeman could demand such things of us," Max added. "Omerta bought Queen Charlotte Islands from Canada and declared it a separate country. The UN recognizes us as an independent corporate nation. Since the company is the country, our police are actually employees who work to help keep the data secure. It's one of the reasons so many countries entrust us with their secrets. We are a neutral country, like Switzerland. So you see, we are safe as safe can be." He finished grandly. He accidentally spilled some beer on his shirt as he raised his arm.

"I suspect the rest of us would be safer if I gave you a ride home tonight," Harmony laughed. "The beer sneaks up on you sometimes."

*****

Clio excused herself to have a word with a friend she saw in the corner and left them deep in a discussion over them merits of sod warehouses.

After chatting with her friend, she turned around and bumped into the table behind her. There was Bob the Money Guy having dinner with Nancy Kolstad, their head office assistant. Nancy was a solid middle-aged woman. She worked hard, stayed late and had the office running like clockwork. She was also a twice-divorced single mom. Clio liked her, even though Nancy delivered daily lectures on the importance of orderly paperwork and meticulous planning. Although she knew Nancy hated her haphazard notes, Clio always found her lab well stocked and running smoothly. Nancy was a big believer in regular maintenance on all of the equipment.

Clio was not sure she liked seeing Nancy sitting so close to Bob. She thought Nancy was way too good for Bob. Bob had obviously had a few drinks. He happily flirted with Clio and Nancy by turns, his face getting redder and redder. Clio kept looking between them to try to figure out what the story was. Nancy leaned over and patted her hand.

"It's alright, honey. I know how deep the water is. I'm just looking for a weekend swim is all," Nancy said, sipping on an excessively fruity drink. Clio laughed out loud and left them with a clear conscience. Friday nights were no time for sober thinking, but she didn't want to see a nice lady upset by a playboy like Bob.

She waved to Joanna, still every inch the power broker, sitting in one corner with her husband, Eric. Eric was a lawyer who occasionally did some work for the Co-op. Clio had always wondered why he stayed in Ambrosia Springs. He always seemed vaguely dissatisfied. Right now he was toying with his dinner, looking bored while Joanna talked away on her handheld. He halfheartedly waved back at Clio as he slumped in his chair. She always forgot how large the man actually was. He slouched all the time.

As she made her way to the bathroom, she heard a few grumbles about foreigners. Looking around, she saw a table of people casting hard glances towards Max and Seth.

She knew that Floracopia would have to make very sure that everyone in town knew these foreigners were an exception. It was too good an opportunity for this town to have Omerta in their own backyards. She was tapping a note to herself on her handheld when she sat back down.

"Tell me something, pretty lady," asked Max with a courtly air although he was dead serious. "Why is everyone being so nice to us? I mean, Seth and I have never been on the scouting tours before, but in general most places are eager to have us. When we came to Texas it was the opposite. Everyone was rude and went out of their way to let us now we weren't wanted. When we persisted, the local officials came up with all manner of rules and fees and really made it sound like it would be completely impossible for us to open a business anywhere in Texas. Yet when we got here to Ambrosia Springs, it has been nothing but charming ladies and fantastic food. That Joanna woman from your City Council assures me that all obstacles will be cleared away for us. What's the deal with that?"

Kalliope leaned back and arched an eyebrow at her sister and mother. Harmony cleared her throat while she tried to collect her thoughts.

Clio leaned forward and tried to answer as best she could. "Well, like I said, we've got our little terrorist problem that tends to discourage non-Texas companies from coming here in the first place. Since they aren't targeting oil or military targets, the US government gave up trying to find them. Texas is trying to fix that on its own, but the state has limited resources. Also, we know that Texas is famous for our high crime rates and poverty. I mean, we are basically a third world country these days. Many cities really can't support more people so they try to discourage you."

Max nodded. This was actually one of the reasons Texas had been chosen as the site of their new server farm. Obviously they had much more important reasons, like the plentiful sun and wind they would need to power their warehouses of equipment. Putting a security firm in the middle of one of the poorest and most-crime-ridden spots in America was like hiding your favorite dessert at the back of the refrigerator behind a bunch of health food. Just as camouflaging chocolate brownies keeps them from your greedy siblings, hiding server farms full of secrets in the least likely place worked too.

Harmony cut in, "One of the things we have tried to downplay is that outside organizations are heavily targeted by the terrorists. Many cities don't want to have to protect a new company from terrorists or deal with the fallout if you do get hit by the terrorists."

"Is it really that bad?" Max asked.

"Not here." Clio replied quickly. "We've never had a terrorist attack in this area and we don't have any worries about water or power in Ambrosia Springs."

"That's true," Harmony agreed. "But one of the reasons we are so anxious to have Omerta here is that we could really use your expertise on security issues, both for Floracopia and the city. We do what we can, but..." She shrugged.

"If the terrorists target outsiders, what would you guys have to worry about here? Wouldn't you be in more danger if we moved here?" asked Seth.

What they said sounded plausible, yet he was having a hard time envisioning these women anxious for anyone to rescue them from anything. If they hadn't been worried about the terrorist problem for the last ten years of attacks, why would they be worried now?

Clio and Kalliope shot a glance at their mother who shook her head slightly before answering Seth.

"Sometimes the terrorists kidnap locals and hold them hostage in exchange for weapons or money," admitted Harmony. "Again, it hasn't happened anywhere near here, but it pays to be safe. And for all our poor statistics, is there really anywhere in the world that's safe these days?"

"Is there any food that's safe from your Uncle?" Kalliope asked Seth. She watched in fascination as he polished off another bowl of guacamole and stack of tortillas. Max smiled and shrugged, but didn't stop eating.

"We do feed him at home. Sometimes." Seth laughed.

"The presence of attractive women stimulates my appetite," Max declared, wiggling his eyebrows theatrically. Max made a habit of flirting obviously with every woman he met.

"It's nice to see a young man like yourself with such good manners," Harmony laughed as he helpfully poured another round of beer.

"Ah, the ability to recognize beauty is ageless, madam," Max replied. "And I'm not so young as all that."

The conversation wandered to local cuisine, current events, and how to tell whether a mariachi band is any good or not. As the evening wore on, Kalliope eventually left with the mariachi band after belting out a few Spanish serenades in her husky voice. After repeatedly swearing to Harmony and Clio that his head was clear, Seth drove his half-asleep uncle back to their tent.

"You talked me into it," mumbled Max blearily.

Seth had not sworn to the Somata women that his uncle's head was clear. Seth was hoping that the smooth ride of the hovercar would keep Max from throwing up all over the seat.

"What?"

"I said you have convinced me. I will stay with you in this adorable heathen country. Obviously Omerta needs both of us at the new server farm," Max said without opening his eyes.

"Uncle," Seth sighed, "I don't know. There's something weird going on here. There's something about these Texas terrorists that they are not telling us, for starters."

"I know. Isn't it nice? It's settled then." And with that, Max began to snore so loudly that Seth left him in the car to sleep it off.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"S
o are you boys settling in alright?" Clio asked as she put a steadying hand on Seth's shoulder. They were trying to pick their way through a muddy field in as civilized a fashion as possible and meeting with little success.

"Sure," Seth replied. "The new office is going up very quickly. I can't believe we've already been here three weeks." He turned to look at her as he said this and stopped paying attention to where he was going.

Seth slid across a mud patch like a surfer, only to trip over a shoelace and scrape his elbow on the one patch of grass as far as the eye could see.

"I begin to see the point of those uncomfortable looking cowboy boots everyone wears," he said as he slipped again. This time he planted both knees in the mud. Clio had to help him up.