Cyber Dawn (A Ben Raine Novel) (15 page)

“What do you think it was?” I asked.

“Not sure. At the time, I thought maybe it was a data archive of some sort. It was certainly large enough to be one.”

I thought back to Monday morning. I had been in the lab with Megan from a little after four to almost eight. During that time, she barely left her laptop and didn’t once leave the room. I pictured the data cable hooked up to my knee.

Since you’re in a hurry, I’ll use the wire,
she had said.
It transfers data a hundred times faster.

My body started to tremble as a terrifying thought formed in my mind. After a long pause, I asked, “Sarah, what did you copy it to?”

She shrugged. “Not sure. Something with lots of available storage though. And something crazy fast. The transfer only took ten minutes.”

Okay, Benjamin, you’ve got ten minutes. Start talking.

“What time on Monday morning?” I asked.

“I don’t know. 7:15 or 7:30, I guess.”

My breathing grew fast and shallow.

Sarah pulled away. Her eyes were still red and wet.

“Ben?”

“I . . . I know what she copied it to,” I said.

She stared, mouth open. “What?”

“Me.”

22

“Your system was the perfect hiding place,” Sarah said, nodding. “You’re like some sort of high-tech drug mule. For data.”

“Good one,” I said. “But you’re right. I came and went all the time. Probably never crossed the security team’s mind.”

“So, do you want to find out for sure?” Sarah asked.

“Find what out?”

“If the files I copied for Megan
are
really on your system.”

“How?”

“We can login and take a look.”

“You want to hack my brain?”

Sarah shrugged. “I guess if you want to put it that way. Yes. But technically it’s not hacking. I have the access credentials from the other day. Unless they’ve changed, of course.”

When I didn’t reply right away, Sarah continued. “Look, I would just poke around a little. See if the files are there. If they are, we know. Right?”

I stared through her and at the wall on the far side of the coffee shop. My sense of feeling overwhelmed was back. My brain tried to process what I had just learned about Megan along with everything else that happened. Just like before, the memory of her sent a dull ache through my stomach. Only this time, it wasn’t just because of her death.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s take a look.” I reached into my wallet and pulled out a plastic card I had carried for years but never used. “Just in case.”

“What’s this?” she asked as she inspected the card.

“It’s CyberLife’s emergency number. If you call it, they’ll send a team out.”

Sarah’s eyes flashed with worry. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all,” she said. “I’m not sure I can even do it.”

“It’ll be fine,” I said. “You know this stuff. And if what you’re saying is true, you’ve already been in my system once. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Look, worst case, you call the number on the card.”

“No, worst case, I fry your brain.”

Actually, it could be worse than that,
I thought, picturing a black helicopter, full of CyberLife security guards and lawyers, landing on the street outside. I decided not to tell Sarah about that one. Instead, I reached out and gently touched her arm. “I trust you.”

She exhaled sharply, looked back at her screen, and fired up the same hacking program she used at the hospital. “First,” she said. “We need to access your wireless network.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Then you get to drop your pants so I can plug into that data port on your knee.”

My face turned red. “Funny,” I said.

She grinned as she entered a series of commands on her laptop. A moment later, she said, “Lucky you. Found it. Looks like Megan didn’t have it locked down. I doubt CyberLife expected anybody to even look for your wireless hotspot, much less find it.”

Sarah opened a new window on her laptop. A 3D version of the CyberLife logo appeared on the screen. She entered the username and password and pressed SUBMIT. The logo disappeared, replaced by a black screen and a single, blinking cursor.

“Still works,” Sarah said. “We’re in.”

Ten minutes later, Sarah jabbed my shoulder with her elbow. “Hey, wake up,” she said. “Found the log.”

I rubbed my face and sat up. “Just resting my eyes,” I said, eyeing the screen, which displayed a garbled wall of text. “What’s that?” I asked.

“That’s the back-end of your operating system. And before you ask, no, it’s not Linux,” she said with a laugh. “This is much more advanced. Though it’s similar enough for me to work my way around.” She tilted her laptop and pointed to a line of text with Monday’s date. Next to it was a list of file names.

“So what does it mean?” I asked.

“It means you’re carrying around a bunch of stolen CyberLife data.”

I lowered my head, fighting despair over what it looked like Megan had done. “Can you tell what it is?”

“Most of what she copied over is encrypted, unreadable without the key. But a few files are just plain text. I’ll take a look through those now.”

I grabbed our two half-empty coffee mugs and strolled back to the counter for another round. As I waited for Ted to refill the mugs, I turned and watched Sarah work. The blue glow from her laptop display cast a faint light on her pretty face. Buried somewhere deep in my gut, I knew it had taken money to get her to help me. But over the previous day and half, I wanted to believe there was more to it.
The kiss, the hugs, the going above and beyond what I hired her for.

What she did
on the side
still didn’t jive with what I saw in her. I was having a hard time working out in my mind that she spent her nights hacking computers. Earlier that morning, Sofia mentioned how nice and sweet Sarah was.

Hacker, has a tattoo, commits felonies on the weekend.

Nice and sweet, huh?

She looked up and caught me staring. Silently, she mouthed, “What?”

I smiled back. Ted handed me the two mugs of coffee, and I started toward the couch. Suddenly, the room started to spin.

The last thing I heard was the sound of porcelain smashing on the floor.

23

A hand gently squeezed my shoulder. Through the haze, I turned my head expecting to see Sarah. Only the girl in front of me had green eyes. Not brown.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” said Katherine Nickel.

Am I dreaming?

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“About a minute,” said another voice.

I turned my head and this time saw Sarah, kneeling next to me on the floor. Like Katherine, she wore a worried look on her face.

I tried to sit up, but the instant vertigo ended that idea quickly. “Whoa, something’s not right,” I said.

I lay back down on one elbow and forced a round of bile back into my stomach. The last thing I needed to do was throw up in front of two cute girls. Or
on
them.

“Ben, what happened?” Sarah asked.

When I didn’t respond right away, she said, “Ben? Say something.”

“I’m okay,” I said, not entirely sure it was true. “Just give me a second.”

I looked back and forth between Sarah and Katherine, and then around the room. Slowly, memories flooded in.

Coffee shop . . .

Akira . . .

Megan . . .

Hacking my system . . .

Copied files . . .

I glanced at Sarah, recalling what she’d been doing just before I collapsed. My eyes fell to her hands. In one she clutched her mobile phone. In the other, the white plastic card with CyberLife’s emergency number printed on it.

“Don’t,” I whispered.

After a moment, she nodded slowly.

In the background, I heard a voice ask if I was okay. Behind the counter was Ted, peering over and staring down at me. I also noticed, for the first time since arriving at the coffee shop, a strange blue neon sign mounted on the front of the counter.

It read:

Startup sequence activated

Odd sign for a coffee shop,
I thought to myself.
And how did I not notice that thing earlier?

“I think so,” Sarah replied to Ted. “Just give us a second.”

I took in two deep breaths and started to feel better. My nausea calmed and the room slowed to half-speed. I sat up again. Both girls reached out to help.

I took Sarah’s hand.

She smiled.

“I’m okay,” I said.

Sarah slipped the phone and the card into her pocket.

“What happened?” Another female voice asked.

It was then I noticed three girls standing behind Katherine. They all wore the same Endo Valley Eagles cheerleader sweater. I was about to ask what they were doing in the coffee shop when the blue neon sign again focused into view. This time, it appeared across the girls’ bodies. Suddenly my vision sharpened and the words changed.

Retinal calibration complete

What the hell?

I rapidly shook my head, then turned back to Sarah. Now the text displayed across her face. I waved my hand in front of my eyes. She looked at me strangely, but I barely noticed.

My hand was
behind
the text.

Suddenly, the words disappeared, replaced by various symbols and digital readouts that appeared all over my field of vision. I snapped my eyes closed and open several times.

The images remained.

It took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. After years of watching science fiction movies and playing video games, I knew what it was.

A heads-up display, or HUD for short.

“Ben?” Sarah asked.

My hand still rested on her knee. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Katherine staring at it with an angry glare on her face.

“I’m okay,” I repeated.

“You don’t look okay,” Katherine and Sarah said in unison.

“You look like you’re all spaced out or something,” Katherine said.

“He’s not spaced out,” Sarah snapped.

Are they fighting? Over me?

My frown turned into a grin.

Awesome.

“What’s so funny?” Sarah asked.

I turned to face her. “Oh, nothing,” I said. “I’m just feeling better, that’s all.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“That’s great,” Katherine said. She reached out and touched my forearm. I looked down at her hand and then flicked my eyes back at Sarah. If looks could kill, Katherine—and maybe me, too—would be dead.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Ben?” Sarah repeated.

“He’s fine,” Katherine said before I could answer.

“I didn’t ask
you
,” Sarah fired back.

I groaned. “You two are giving me a headache,” I said. “I’m okay. Really.”

Ted walked over with a broom and a handful of towels. I bent down and started to pick up pieces of the broken coffee mugs. “Sorry,” I said.

“No problem,” he replied. “Happens all the time.”

I used the momentary distraction to glance around my peripheral vision. I was still having trouble adjusting my focus between the HUD and the real world around me.

I wish I could turn this thing off
, I thought.

The HUD disappeared.

And turn it back on.

It reappeared.

“Looks like you two could use some refills,” said Katherine.

“No thanks,” Sarah said.

“Sure,” I replied at the same time.

“Great!” Katherine exclaimed.

Sarah rolled her eyes. I shrugged as she turned and walked back to the couch.

I turned the HUD off again and helped Ted pick up the remaining pieces. When we finished, I stood and joined Sarah.

“She’s annoying,” Sarah muttered as I sat down next to her.

“Really, right now?”

She half-smiled, and said, “Sorry.”

A moment later, she added, “But she is.”

I laughed.

“You’re not going to believe this,” I said.

“What?”

“I have a HUD.”

“A what?” Sarah whispered.

“A HUD. Heads-up display. Like you see in video games.”

Sarah froze, eyes wide. After a few moments, she said, “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

She quickly turned to her laptop and started typing.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She didn’t answer. I tried to follow along on the screen, but she was too fast. About all I knew was that she was still connected to my system.

“It’s my fault,” she said a few moments later.

“Your fault what?”

“I think I activated it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Activated it? The HUD?”