Palm Sunday (22 page)

Fortunately, Boyd and Klugman were both busy, leaving Stanley free for some serious heads-down coding. By noon the software was as ready as he could make it.

Stanley’s program, though, was only half the equation. Katherine still had to reconfigure the interface itself, which included partial disassembly and the resetting of several switches. She would then have to replace the device, all without disturbing the delicate optics.

The interface supported bi-directional processing, but for ScanDat’s purposes the outward flow had been disabled. Katherine’s actions would reinstate the original configuration, as well as disengage the logic processor. The interface would become a glorified electronic traffic cop, but it would just wave everyone through.

Technically, the modification was not difficult, but she would need about ten minutes to accomplish her task. If Klugman or Boyd showed up while she had the device apart, it would be impossible to explain. No one would buy the ‘test’ excuse, and she knew it.

Katherine hovered near Stanley’s cubicle door. “They should be leaving for lunch any time now,” she said, glancing at her watch.

“You seem nervous.” Stanley tilted back in his chair.

Katherine nodded. “I am. It’s okay, though. Look, there they go.”

Stanley rose and peeked over the top of his cubicle. When he saw them exit the floor near Klugman’s office, he walked out from his cubicle and went to the window, watching the parking lot below.

“I’ll let you know when it’s clear,” said Stanley. As he watched, Klugman walked out of the building and went to his car, but there was no sign of Boyd. “Klugman’s gone, but I don’t see…”

“Hey, Stan!” It was Boyd. Stanley whirled around, startled by the voice of the person he expected to see on the pavement below.

“What...what is it, Boyd?”

“What are you gawking at?” Boyd walked up to the window next to him and looked down.

“Nothing, just trying to decide whether I want to go out for lunch.”

“I thought you already had lunch,” said Boyd.

“Yes. I mean, no. I ate something small here. Just checking the weather.”

Boyd nodded. “Oh. Anyway, have you seen my blue notebook? The little four-inch job?” When Stanley shook his head, Boyd looked quickly around. “There it is.” He walked to a shelf near Klugman’s office and picked up the small tablet. He noticed Katherine watching him, and held it up for her to see. “Got it!”

Katherine smiled. “Good.”

As Boyd left, Stanley and Katherine raced to the window, this time watching as Boyd got into his car and pulled out of the lot. When he was gone, they hurried to the computer room, and Katherine immediately went to work on the interface. It took her nine minutes to accomplish her task.

“The interface is reconfigured. I’ve disconnected it from both the fiber backbone and the firewall,” said Katherine.

Stanley nodded his approval. “Good. Next we hook the interface directly to the Alpha where the firewall used to plug in. I’ll take care of that.” Stanley and Katherine seemed to be dancing as they moved around each other, grabbing tools, wires or equipment as they quickly made the necessary connections.

“And I’ll splice the network analyzer to the input cable on the interface,” said Katherine. She unraveled a set of wires with alligator clips and started the delicate job of joining the analyzer to the experimental device. They would have preferred to go directly from the palmtop to the Alpha, but they needed the electronics of the interface to provide an efficient transport mechanism, while the network analyzer would convert the data from the palm unit into a format usable by the interface.

It was like using your left hand to scratch your right ear, but it was the only way to incorporate the Alpha into the scheme, which they would need once they got into the agency’s system. Stanley placed the palmtop on the floor.

Katherine glanced up from what she was doing. “The frequency generator has to be closer to the palm unit.”

Stanley moved it. “That should do it.” He pointed to the first device in the chain. “The frequency generator triggers the palmtop, initiating a download.”

Katherine nodded and took up the narrative. “The network analyzer scans the download, converting the data into standard packets as input to the interface.”

Stanley went on. “The interface passes the signal through to the Alpha, just like it would normally. With the logic processors disabled, it won’t reject anything.” He looked at the assortment of equipment, and the jumble of wires that held it together. “At this point the gate is open in one direction–to us. We process whatever we get, and then re-route our own data back through the interface and into the palm unit.”

“And hope that our little friend is smart enough to phone home,” said Katherine.

It was time to test their theory.

“Let’s fire it up,” said Stanley. He sat at the Alpha’s console and ran the recently completed communications program, while Katherine activated the frequency generator. Within seconds the palmtop’s display started to blink, and a menu appeared with several options.

Katherine described it. “No logon or password. That’s a bit odd.” She scanned the menu options. “What do you think, ‘Inquiries’?”

“Sounds right to me. Let’s see what happens.”

Katherine made the appropriate selection, and the screen disappeared for a moment, only to be replaced with a second screen of options. One of these read ‘Recent Xmts’. “Must be for recent transmissions.”

“Do it,” said Stanley.

A list of partial subject titles filled the screen. Katherine scrolled down, and was stunned to see Stanley’s name listed. He watched her as she peered closely at the screen.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s your name.”

His eyebrow shot up in surprise. “What else?”

She moved the cursor and chose ‘Select’. Almost instantly the screen was replaced with the contents of the message. It read as follows:

Subject Stanley Whipple identified as computer scientist for ScanDat Industries. Suspect is known accomplice of R. Slocum, currently relegated for interrogation. Whipple to be detained pending executive authorization. More to follow. EOT.

Katherine had been leaning forward as she read, and now straightened. “I don’t get it. Why do they want you?”

“They obviously know I’m in cahoots with Slocum. And now we know where Slocum is.”

“Should we see what else there is?” asked Katherine.

Stanley glanced at his watch. “No, we’d better send our message. Not much time left.”

The communication channel to the interface was open, so he ran a command to send a file to ScanDat’s Internet address. He knew it would get through the interface and the network analyzer, but would the palmtop forward it to–wherever? A moment later they had their answer.

“Disconnected,” said Katherine.

They had failed. “We’re just about out of time. Boyd and Klugman will be back soon.” He closed his program and stood up. “I’ll get this mess cleaned up–you put the interface back the right way.”

“I’m on it.”

She beat her previous record of nine minutes, and none too soon. Just as they finished putting everything back in place, Klugman walked in the door, glanced around to make sure everyone was working, and entered his office. Stanley and Katherine returned to work on the ScanDat project, but their minds were very much on Robert Slocum. That he was in the clutches of the agency he once worked for was obvious, and no doubt under great duress. But where was the agency located, and how could they help him? They were questions that would be answered soon enough. 

Professor Walthrop was a mild-mannered teacher, but when Agent Sharon made him a supervisor, he created a monster. Everything had to be perfect, and nothing was done quickly enough. Of course, the huge bonus Walthrop had been promised certainly contributed to his enthusiasm. This is exactly what Sharon had anticipated, and he was pleased with the news that the system was ready for its test run a week after the project was started.

“You’re ahead of schedule, Professor,” said Sharon. “I hope you aren’t cutting corners.”

“Agent Sharon, we’re ahead of schedule because of hard work and an unreasonable taskmaster. The system is solid, I assure you. If there are any problems it will probably be due to errant calculations, which will fall squarely on my shoulders.”

“You’re a rarity, Professor. I don’t meet many people who would so readily accept responsibility for a failure.”

“It won’t fail. Now, shall we proceed?”

Sharon gestured towards the computer console. “The helm is yours.”

Walthrop sat down and nodded towards Justin, who would be entering the actual commands. It took the burden of operating the keyboard away from the slow-typing professor.

“Initialize the primary server,” said Walthrop.

Justin issued the command to purge all extraneous data from the main server, and then opened its communication ports. Forty seconds later he reported that it was ready.

“Very good,” said Walthrop. “Now prepare the remote nodes for asynchronous operations, using the clock from the primary server as the master.”

Justin’s fingers flew across the keyboard, and in ten separate locations, spaced over a corridor twenty miles long, the secondary servers matched their internal clocks precisely with the master server at the regional FBI data center. For the next three minutes a period of sampling passed, during which the individual computers verified that they were continuing to match time–down to the millisecond–with the master. No discrepancies were reported.

Walthrop bobbed his head. “Fine. We seem to be about ready.” He hesitated.

Sharon moved a step closer. “Is anything wrong, Professor?”

“No, no. Just savoring the moment, I suppose.” He glanced nervously at Justin and nodded. “Send the activation code.”

His former student carefully entered a twelve-digit encrypted command sequence. “Activation code sent.”

“Switch to surveillance mode,” said Walthrop.

“Activated,” said Justin. His screen changed immediately, displaying a visual representation of the artificial traffic now being generated by the Professor’s hastily assembled network.

Walthrop nodded his approval. “All signals running strong and normal. No fluctuations or deviations, pattern is clear of interruption.” Walthrop leaned back in his chair. It squeaked under his weight.

“Now what, Professor?” asked Sharon.

“Now we wait. Until there’s an event, we should see exactly what we’re looking at–nice clear packets moving back and forth across your suspect segment. When, and if, we detect a deviation that matches the pattern that you associate with the event, then we’ll have a pretty good fix on where it’s happening.”

“Okay,” said Sharon. “So we wait. You want some coffee or something?”

“Yes, thanks. Cream and sugar, please.”

Sharon turned to one of his technicians. “You. Go get two coffees, cream and sugar.”

“Yes, sir.”

The technician left the room and Sharon sat in his vacated seat. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Professor. That was one heck of a job putting this rig together on such short notice.”

“Thank you, but being quite candid, the technology isn’t exactly cutting edge.”

“I know that,” said Sharon. “Still, the idea, the theory behind the operation, that was all yours, and you put it together.”

“You’re really very kind, but…”

“Professor!” Justin interrupted Walthrop as one of the signals on the monitor started to fluctuate wildly.

“Good heavens, boy, isolate that. We should get some beautiful returns there.” He paused for a moment, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Start a trace, but be sure to use quiet mode. We don’t want anyone detecting the trace itself.”

Justin opened a new window, and issued the trace command and required parameters. Seconds later he started to receive feedback. “We’re getting something, Professor.” As Justin read the incoming data, his brow furrowed. “This is odd.”

“What is it?” asked Walthrop. He leaned towards Justin’s monitor, trying to see the display.

“Look,” said Justin. “We’re getting a clear header in the packet. They slipped up big time.”

Walthrop laughed slightly. “Cocky mothers. They must figure that once they’re into the primary fiber stream they can’t be filtered out.”

Justin wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know, Professor. We’ve seen bits and pieces before, but nothing this obvious.”

“Not at the packet level, that’s true. But it’s probably because they think they’re the only ones operating here.”

Justin shook his head. “Something doesn’t add up. Wouldn’t they take basic precautions, even if they thought no one was watching?”

Sharon had been listening with great interest. “Professor, can we get an IP from the header?”

“Should be able to. Justin?”

“Yeah, it’s there. Let me print it out.”

A paper slid into the hopper of a laser printer on the opposite side of the room. Sharon walked over and picked it up, handing it to the remaining technician. “See who belongs to this.”

The technician took the paper and sat down at an unoccupied computer. Minutes later he had the requested information. “Looks like a computer company–ScanDat Industries.”

 Sharon looked at Walthrop. “Do we know for a fact that the signal originated from this company?”

“Oh, yes. That much is a certainty.” Walthrop leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head.

“Could they have been used as a transfer point by a third party?” asked Sharon. “Is it possible that the company is unaware that its resources are being used?”

“You mean re-routed through their servers? No. Although it happens all the time, in this case the routing clearly establishes the point of origin.”

“So what do we have here, exactly?” asked Sharon.

“Beyond the address, not much,” said Walthrop. “I’ve shown you the where; you’ll have to determine the why, as well as the how.”

“Right,” said Sharon. “I guess we’ll just have to ask them when we bring them in. I’m going to have a chat with my boss and see if we can put together a little party for our friends at ScanDat.”

“Can you do that?” asked Walthrop.