Code Breakers Complete Series: Books 1-4 (18 page)

Petal tapped Gerry on the knee and then sent him a message on their VPN.
 

It said: “Chill, Gez. Gabe gets funny about it all. Don’t push him. It’s a sore subject.”

Gerry returned: “Okay.”

But still, it played on his mind. Gabe was a strange one for sure, and now Gerry was questioning his loyalties, and not for the first time in the last couple of days. He just hoped whatever was going through his mind would stay away long enough to find Seca and put an end to his plans.

They arrived at a pair of heavily armed, and hastily built, checkpoints. Nothing more than hunks of twisted metal and a stool, on which sat two humanoids—for Gerry wasn’t certain who was and wasn’t human these days. They cradled dull-black metal weapons, which looked like cannons with their massive barrels and simple construction.

Petal leaned out the window and smiled at one of the grime-encrusted guards. He lifted a pair of sunglasses, revealing pupil-less eyes. They gleamed bright white in the sun as they swivelled in their sockets. The brute lifted the cannon, resting its barrel on the edge of the makeshift checkpoint.

“State your purpose and ID,” it grunted.

Petal pulled from her leather jacket the paper Len had given to them. She held it up to the guard and snatched it away as he tried to take it from her.
 

“You don’t need to take it to read it. Your pal Len’s assured us you’d allow us through.” She stuck out her chin, full of defiance.
 

The guard’s eyes turned to a sickly yellow, like days-old custard. From within that gooey mess a black thing, like a marble, came to the surface and widened until the eyes were black orbs. The guard moved his lips as he read the ID document and note from Len.
 

“Go a hundred metres down this road. When you see the flags for ‘The Blighty’, park up behind the building and give this to the doorman.” The guard handed Petal a DigiCard with two holes notched into its surface near the top.
 

He removed the barrel from the checkpoint and waved them through.
 

The Blighty turned out to be a British-themed pub, or so Gerry was informed. He’d never seen such a thing, but warmed to it instantly. It had a homely feel with its soft cushion booths and dark wood tables. The bar ran the length of the room and featured a number of beer taps with various crests and icons signifying a range of ales. Pint glasses hung above the bar, and a barman with slicked-back hair wore a pristine white apron with ‘The Blighty’ emblazoned upon its surface in red thread.

The beer was not beer, a sign said, but a synthetic approximation. He was glad to have kept the water flask Enna had provided them. Despite the temptation, a synthetic version didn’t appeal.
 

Much like The Spider’s Byte, as soon as they breached the threshold, its patrons stopped everything to regard them in a tense silence. A particular woman caught Gerry’s eye. She was leaning over the bar, sitting atop a wooden stool. She leant over to grab another refill from the optics behind the bar.

Gerry couldn’t take his eyes off her as she slugged back a shot, slamming the glass on the bar and exhaling a loud whoop. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, savouring the drink. When she opened her eyes, she caught Gerry in a fierce gaze.

“You. Come here.” She pointed to Gerry. Her red nail polish gleamed in the orange light of the bar’s low-level lamps. She hitched one leg over the other, stretching her leather miniskirt. She tapped the toe of a red stiletto boot against the wooden rung of the stool impatiently. Petal nudged Gerry in the ribs with an elbow.

“Go, Gez. That’s our contact.”

Gerry walked across the wooden floor towards her. Each step echoed with a thunderous clang, or at least it seemed that way with everyone glaring at him with a mixture of frowns and smirks.
 

When he got near, she grabbed the lapels of his leather duster and pulled him close. Her green eyes, like jewels, were just a few centimetres away. Her pupils expanded as she continued to analyse him.

“You’re human,” she said before letting him go. “I thought Len would find something… better.” She sighed, pushing a lock of auburn hair away from her forehead.
 

“Are you an Upsider, like Len and his people?” Gerry asked, ignoring her obvious disappointment.
 

She turned her head away, focusing on the bottle and shot glasses on the bar. She poured another drink and slammed it back. “Something like that,” she said, wiping her ruby-red lips with the back of her hand. “I’m Molly, and you, my little hacker, have work to do.”

“How’s this going to work?” Gerry asked.
 

“Simple. You come with me, do as your told, and see if you can hack Seca’s security to deliver the payload before your brain explodes.”

“Oh, is that all? There’s me thinking it was going to be tricky.”

“Yeah, you keep that confidence. You’ll need it. Let’s get to it, then.” Molly stood, grabbed his hand, and led him to a door at the side of the bar. The various patrons had started to talk in hushed tones as he passed them. He noticed most of them had distorted faces like Len’s. Some had stunted limbs, misshapen arms and some that resembled flippers. A glimmer of hope shone in their eyes, adding to the responsibility that he felt growing heavily on his shoulders.

Before he let Molly take him through the door, he shot a look back at Gabe and Petal. Gabe grinned at him, urging him on. Petal’s eyebrows knitted close, and her nostrils flared. Was she pissed off about something?
 

“Come,” Molly ordered. She pulled his hand, dragging him through a beaded curtain and into a dark and dingy back room that stank of mould. Shrouds of thick red light illuminated an area at the back of the room. A leather sofa sat against one wall; a chair and a full-length mirror were opposite. Probably a two-way, he thought.
 

Molly pushed him roughly into the sofa and sat on the chair.

“Well?” Gerry asked, leaning forward. “What now?”
 

“Slip it in and drop your payload, Mr Techxorcist man,” she said with a wicked smile. From inside her jacket, she took a beat-up HackSlate. An earlier model of the one Petal used. Its holographic display was partially broken, and the frame was dented and scratched.

“What happened to this?”

“It’s the secure node,” Molly said. “It got dropped a few times over the years as others tried to break Seca’s security.”

“What happened to them?”

“Better you don’t know.” She leant forward. Her face relaxed and became serious. “You have to remain focused. Don’t let it get to you. If you get confused and let the fear get into your mind, you won’t be able to crack the security.”

“So this security that Seca has is an intelligent one? An AI?”

“Yeah… but it’s messed up. It’s not passive. It’ll attack you as soon as you log in. Don’t let it overwhelm you. You have to find a weakness, and when you do, drop Len’s payload. The virus can only work from the inside. You understand?”

He gripped the HackSlate, took a deep breath, and tried to ignore the growing anxiety that was building within. He tried to calm his mind. Think back to all the jobs he’d completed at Cemprom when a rogue hacker had tried to get in. He took the DigiCard with Len’s virus on it and installed it into the slot in the side of the slate. The software loaded within seconds, waiting for Gerry to download it into the right place.
 

A tingle of anxiety crawled up the back of his neck, making him shiver. Molly leant forward, resting her elbows on her knees. He caught himself distracted by her bare thighs beneath her miniskirt that had stretched upward.
 

“Eyes on the prize,” Molly said with a smirk.

Gerry wasn’t sure which prize she was referring to, but the bloom of embarrassment warmed his cheeks, and he looked away, trying to refocus. “What if the AI doesn’t come to me?” Gerry asked. “How else can I deliver the payload if it doesn’t make itself known?”

“Download it to the server node responsible for the security of the vaccine unit. But trust me. I doubt you’ll have a free run of it. Although the slate will get you so far, all data on Seca’s network is closely monitored.”

Molly leaned back, crossed her legs, and lit a cigarette. The smoke filled the room, making the place hazy. It had a sweet aroma to it. Gerry’s nostrils twitched as he breathed in the smoke. “What’s that?” All cigarettes had been banned from the Dome. In fact, all non-medicinal drugs were banned. Which was no real problem as there wasn’t anyone with the resources to manufacture recreational drugs.
 

“Just a little relaxant,” Molly said, holding the cigarette between her forefinger and index finger so that it pointed away from her. She cut a cool figure sitting there shrouded in smoke. “I find it helps with these kind of things. Helps focus the mind.”

A tickling cough played at the back of Gerry’s throat, but he could feel himself become numb. His heart rate slowed, and his mind stopped whirling with anxiety.
 

“Just let it take you away,” Molly said. Her voice was low and seductive. He wasn’t sure if that was just her or the effects of the drugs, but he nodded, listened to her voice, and concentrated on his breathing. Once in the mindset, he connected to the HackSlate with his dermal implant.
 

“Are you ready?” Molly said.
 

“Yes.”

“Okay. Once you log in, the HackSlate has a directory with the network address of the vaccine storage unit. The AI, however, is stored somewhere else. Don’t worry about that. It’ll come to you. Just get past it and locate the security node’s exact address. The payload needs to know that to be fully functional. You’ll see how it works when you activate it. It’s super simple. The trick is surviving the AI.”

Molly’s form dissolved as the interface from the slate took over his optical nerve. A familiar sense of connection came in the form of a series of buzzes. His vision and perception went dark. A second later a gridlike interface filled his vision. Each square of the grid represented a program.
 

Following Molly’s advice, he activated a directory on the interface and read the file within. It gave him the rough network address of the vaccine storage unit. The physical grid location showed it was situated within the centre of Darkhan city, some twenty kilometres from his current position. That physical distance, however, was of little consequence. The network allowed him to reach the node that managed the security of the vaccine unit with a few thoughts of his mind.
 

He began to analyse the flow of data on the network as it passed through the HackSlate. That was one of the device’s main uses: it would spoof itself as a computer on the network and divert traffic through its processor, where the user could alter the data to his or her desire.
 

In Gerry’s case, he wanted to hack into the security server and deliver the software virus Len had created. A strategy was starting to form.
 

The data that he analysed was various instructions from the vaccine unit to the security server and back again. At first he thought he’d have a free run at it and would be able to drop the payload. Optimism was a cruel mistress, though.
 

The AI charged with keeping the vaccines safe and secure had shut off the flow of data and zeroed in on Gerry as his mind delved deeper into the flow of bits.
 

A sensation like being electrocuted surrounded his head. His first instinct was to disconnect from the HackSlate, but his retreat was blocked, and he fell further into the network, compelled by the massive code base of the security system. Although he wasn’t in a VR world, the AI appeared to be similar to the one he saw back at Enna’s place: tentacular within its system of multifunctioning programs, all branching out from a central, intelligent body.
 

With a foreboding sense of horror, Gerry realised that the code his brain was developing to counteract the AI was actually feeding into it. The electrical buzzing in his mind increased as he put more and more of himself into keeping up with the attacks. The AI pumped gigabytes of data a second through the system to Gerry, overloading his neural capacity to cope with the flood of information. It was like someone had attached audio and video feeds directly to his ventral pathways in the parietal lobe—the part of the brain responsible for integrating information from the different senses in order to create a picture of the world.
 

Sweat poured from his forehead. His heart rate beat faster than he thought was even possible. Code spun out of his mind chaotically as he panicked in trying to stem the flow from the AI.
 

He wanted to shout out or scream, but that part of the brain remained unavailable. All resources were busy in dealing with this attack. From somewhere far out of his cognition he heard Molly’s voice.
 

“Calm down, Gerry. Focus on the AI’s central core. Ignore the other programs. They’re decoys.”

Her voice came to him in snatches, and it took a few seconds to fully comprehend the words. But eventually they built up a picture in his mind of what to do.
 

One of the anti-hacking programs from the AI attempted to attack his temporal lobe, the area of the brain that managed perception, learning, and memory. Gerry went on the counter-attack. He couldn’t afford for that part to be damaged. It was the core of everything he was able to do. Without the ability to form memories or learn, he’d be nothing more than a dumb unit like one of the NearlyMen.
 

Focusing all his energies on a single spearlike program, he constructed a complicated process using some of the ideas he learned from the Helix++ book: A set of algorithms that mutated at an exponential rate.

Dropping the software program into the flow of traffic between him and his attacker, Gerry let his mind follow behind, using the software as a kind of mine sweeper. Such was its size and increasing nature, it started to overwhelm the intelligent code and made it use more of its own resources to cope with Gerry’s counter-attack.