Tom Clancy's Net Force 6-10 (62 page)

Read Tom Clancy's Net Force 6-10 Online

Authors: Tom Clancy

Tags: #Fiction, #Action & Adventure

BOOK: Tom Clancy's Net Force 6-10
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She looked at him expectantly.
“Your client, CyberNation, is suing Net Force—and me personally—for two hundred million dollars. On top of that, we’ve caught them doing all manner of illegal things in the past, and there is an investigation that has been ongoing since then.”
She started to say something but he held up his hand. “Now I know that the organization managed to throw a few sacrificial bodies off the sled, as it were, but I don’t believe that all the guilty parties have been brought to justice. In fact, I fully expect that we will catch CyberNation doing all manner of illegal things in the future, too. I think CyberNation’s higher-ups all ought to be wearing eye-patches and peg legs and going ‘Har, matey!’ when they talk, that they are as twisted as a boxcar full of corkscrews, and if I can, I’ll see them all in prison for a long, long time.”
She smiled, what looked like a genuinely happy expression. “Oh, go on, Commander, don’t sugarcoat like that—tell me how you
really
feel.”
He had to laugh at that. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I came off pretty righteous and pompous, didn’t I?”
She laughed, too. “That’s all right, Commander. I appreciate honesty. I seldom get to hear it as much as I would like in my work.”
He nodded. “In that case, Ms. Skye, I have to warn you that you’re wasting your time lobbying me.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I don’t think so. Besides, there’s no challenge in convincing somebody who already agrees with you.”
Well,
he thought.
This ought to be interesting, at least.
“Let me lay out some facts, Commander.”
“That’s the third time you’ve called me that,” he said. “We don’t stand on titles around here. Please, call me ‘Alex.’ ”
She smiled again. “All right, Alex. My friends call me ‘Cory.’ ”
He nodded.
“Let’s assume for a moment, hypothetically speaking, that all the bad apples in CyberNation were removed from the barrel. Or maybe even that there are a couple you missed, but that the rest of the organization is not intrinsically evil.”
“That’s a big assumption, and like I said, I don’t agree with it.”
“For the sake of argument.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
“If that were the case, if all those who did anything illegal were gone, how would you feel about the organization then?”
“You mean about those fine, upstanding people who are suing me for all that money?”
She smiled. “Well, as long as we are speaking hypothetically, suppose that lawsuit did not exist. That it just went away?”
“No crooks, no legal action,” he said. “In that case, I suppose I might not think much of CyberNation one way or another.”
She frowned. “Are you saying that you have no opinion whatsoever regarding their basic premise?”
He leaned forward a little, clasping his hands and resting his elbows on his desk. “Not at all. I think it’s a silly idea. A virtual country whose citizens live and work in the real world but do not have to pay taxes to the countries they actually live in? A phantom government that can still issue IDs, credit cards, even driver’s licenses?”
“It’s not a phantom government and you know it,” she said. “Its leaders are elected through the same democratic process as the President of the United States.”
He shrugged. “There’s no White House, no Capitol Hill, no physical analog to any of the traditional seats of power. Without that, it’s all just pixels on a screen.”
She smiled. “Actually, with VR there are no pixels and no screen, but you know that, too, of course. Besides, I see your point. I just don’t agree with it.”
“What about the rest of my comments?” he asked.
She waved her hand dismissively. “You already get most of your IDs and credit cards on-line,” she said. “When was the last time you mailed in a credit-card application instead of just visiting a website? This is no different. And I’ve heard that several states are considering doing their driver’s license testing and renewals on-line as well. Sure beats standing in line, doesn’t it? If we can do it, why can’t CyberNation?”
“It’s just not the same.”
“Why not, Commander? Alex? Why isn’t it the same?”
He shook his head. “Look, I’ll grant you that some of this, maybe even much of it, is happening already or is going to happen. But not just on-line. The virtual world we live in is just a convenience, a time-saver. The Department of Motor Vehicles still exists. It still has all its same branch offices. And you can still go down and talk to someone face-to-face if you have a problem. The same is true for all the branches of government, and all the banks, and all the other companies who have a presence on the net. Their virtual offices haven’t replaced the physical ones, and that makes all the difference.”
“Why?” she asked. “What difference does it make if I have the option to go downtown and stand in line in some old office building? If I can get the same level of service— no, if I can get better and faster service on-line, with the same level of accountability—then why should that make any difference at all?”
He frowned again. He knew he was right, but he couldn’t find the words to explain it to her.
“It just does,” he said.
She just smiled.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s table that part of the discussion for now. Why don’t you tell me what really bothers you about CyberNation, Alex?”
He sighed. “It just doesn’t make sense,” he said. “Let’s say CyberNation exists right now, and that you’re a citizen there. But you work here, in the real world, in the United States. You spend all your time here, regardless of whether you’re working on-line or off. You’re here, receiving all the benefits of being a citizen, all the protection of our laws, all the freedoms of our land, and yet you’re not a part of it.”
“And I’m not paying for it.”
“Exactly.”
She smiled. “That’s it, isn’t it, the fact that I’m not paying taxes and you are?”
He nodded. “That’s part of it, certainly.”
“But don’t you see, Alex, that happens all the time. If I were a citizen of Saudi Arabia, for example, or France, I could live here and work here—part of the year, at least—and not pay taxes to the U.S. government.”
“That’s different,” he said. “Those are real countries. Our government has reciprocal agreements with them, so our citizens can live and work there under the same arrangements.”
“And that will be true with CyberNation, too,” she said. “We’ll have arrangements with every government on the face of this planet. We’ll have to. It’s the only way our citizens will be able to live and work where they want to.”
“But . . .” He stopped.
“Yes?”
He shook his head. CyberNation was wrong. The whole idea was ludicrous, and he knew it. He just couldn’t seem to make her understand that.
“And what happens to the real-world countries?” he asked.
“Ah, now
that
is the best question I’ve heard so far,” she said. “And I believe it’s the real heart of your concern, isn’t it? The fact that people becoming citizens of CyberNation, of not paying taxes to the U.S. anymore, would be bad for this country that you love so much.”
He nodded. He hadn’t really thought of it in those terms before, but she was right. It would be bad for the United States, just as it would be bad for Saudi Arabia, and France, and every other country. It would have to be.
“But maybe, just maybe, that would be a good thing. After all, the United States is supposed to have a government ‘of the people, by the people, and for the people.’ Can you honestly say that the current tax structure works that way? Never mind for the moment that fewer than ten percent of the population pays more than eighty percent of the taxes. Never mind for the moment that for tax purposes the poverty level is set at an unbelievably low level, so that families making far less money than they need to feed and clothe and house their children are nonetheless paying taxes. No, for now, just look at where those taxes go. Tell me that you’re happy with all the pork barreling that goes on, and that you believe the monumental waste you see all around you is ‘of the people, by the people, and for the people.’ ”
She paused and looked at him. “Maybe, Alex, just maybe it isn’t CyberNation that’s bad for America. Maybe America has become bad for itself.”
“No, Ms. Skye,” he said in a flat voice. “We’ve got problems, I’ll admit that. We always have and we always will. But that’s exactly because we
are
of the people. Any human endeavor will always be flawed. It’s part of our makeup. CyberNation would be no different.”
There was a moment of silence as they both looked at each other. Then she nodded. “Well,” she said, “I won’t take up any more of your time. I appreciate the opportunity to talk with you. If ever I can help you with information regarding CyberNation, or anything else, please give me a call.”
He nodded, rose, and shook her hand.
She paused, still gripping his hand lightly. “Promise me one thing, Alex. Promise me you’ll at least think about what I’ve said.”
“Oh, I think you can count on that, Ms. Skye.”
She left and Alex turned back to work. A virtual country? No taxes? Preposterous.
Wasn’t it?
14
Net Force HQ
Jay Gridley walked across the huge laboratory’s hard linoleum floor toward the test chamber. A low, dry rustling sound, as if thousands of leaves were being tossed about in a huge lotto machine, echoed through the room. The air was heavy with the smell of ozone. Across the room, two Jacob’s ladders, the epitome of mad-scientist decor, buzzed, sending hump-shaped blue sparks up their V-shaped electrodes. Close at hand, a bank of Tesla coils radiated even more intense sparkings, and Van de Graff electrostatic generators added their cracklings. A large Lava lamp stood off to the side, and on one of the lab benches, a Rube Goldberg forest of beakers, retorts, and Bunsen burners drove multicolored liquids through tubes and distilled them into yet more containers. At the end of another bench, an old oscilloscope displayed a revolving sine wave. The topper was the huge computer lining the entire wall at the end of the room. Huge rolling reels of magnetic tape rolled back and forth, interspersed with banks of flashing lights. The sound of clicking relays was a touch he had added himself.
Jay grinned. This particular scenario wasn’t actually all his, but since he had the final word in most Net Force VR work, his suggestions had carried some weight.
Frankenstein would be proud of this setup. Or at least the moviemakers who did all those science-gone-mad flicks of the thirties, forties, and fifties would be. Jay was proud, too. His people had done their usual great work.
Around him on the other three walls were hundreds of museum-quality display cases, each one lined with cotton and filled with odd-looking insects. On top of the lab benches, in huge wooden boxes, were thousands upon thousands more bugs: Their assorted wings, legs, and pincers were what made the leaf-rustling sound.
This wasn’t Jay’s usual VR scenario. It wasn’t intended to help him break into other net sites. It wasn’t even connected to the net at all. Instead, it was quarantined in a stand-alone Net Force computer, with no links to the outside net at all.
This scenario was a holding cell. It was also a visualizer and a synthesizer. It translated computer viruses, worms, and Trojan horses into distinctive insectoid shapes, complete with whatever features made each particular program unique. When it came time to see how a new attack program worked, Net Force personnel came here, to the test lab, to see what they were up against.
If the virus ate data, for example, it might have oversized mandibles along with a big abdomen and colors to match the data it went after. If it propagated by hiding in other data, or by catching hold of it, it might have a chameleon-like ability to change color, or spinnerets to ensnare its prey. Each mode of operation, combined with the bug’s delivery and goal, would give Net Force’s software enough info to make a distinctive-looking bug.
Naturally they still had to look at the actual code that made up the cores of the viruses, but the visualizations gave them a better way of tracking how the virus actually worked.
Like now, for instance.
Behind a thick Plexiglas wall was the virus test chamber, itself an analog representation of data transfer between computers. An old-fashioned punch-card printer sat at one end of a long conveyer belt. At the other end was a scanning array and punch-card reader along with a large diagram of a computer that looked like an ant farm.
Everything was a brilliant white, like some scientific version of heaven. Cameras and magnifying lenses surrounded the apparatus to make it easier to watch the process from start to finish. A long section of the Plexiglas wall had been built to make a huge lens that brought sections of the conveyer belt up several levels of magnification.
Jay walked over to the punch-card printer and sat at a terminal. He tapped a few buttons and the printer began to spit cards. What he’d actually done was to upload an e-mail that had been infected with the new blanker virus going around. High-end security software had caught it, but the virus had slid past standard virus-checker stuff, and he wanted to find out why.

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