The softwire : Virus on Orbis 1 (15 page)

Charlie finished and handed me an ID disc. “Here we go,” he said. “Trading Council Tribunal. Room twelve fifty-two. We’ll take light chute fifteen-C over there. Better hurry — we’re late.”

All along the main floor, light chutes carried aliens to different destinations. We located 15C, waited for it to clear, and stepped in. I arrived instantly on the fifteenth floor and stepped off the chute. I didn’t have a clue what the
C
stood for, but room 1252 was straight ahead. The large metal doors disappeared as I held up my ID disc. A security drone greeted me, scanned the ID, and directed Charlie and me inside.

The tribunal was crowded. Aliens jostled for space along the ribbed walls, and every crystal bench was filled. All this commotion because of me. I couldn’t believe it. What had I done?

Perched high on the wall to my left was a balcony attached to metal struts that curved up and out from the glass floor. The Keepers sat there. I counted eight, including Drapling and Theylor. On the opposite side sat the Trading Council, or its representatives. Again eight seats, but there were only seven members — four in person and three who had sent their holographs.

The room was filled with a buzzing murmur as more and more aliens tried to enter. But once the crowd saw me, the entire room quieted for a nanosecond and then erupted in a noisy clatter, only now the clatter was focused on me.

“Exile the Softwire,” I heard someone shout.

“Death to the human,” said another.

“Don’t listen to them,” Charlie whispered as we took our seats below the Keepers.

With a dramatic flurry, a late member filled the eighth seat on the Trading Council. It was Madame Lee, only this time she arrived in person. Her extensive entourage stood by, almost in an attack position.

My eyes never left Madame Lee. I remembered what she had done to Boohral’s assistant when we first came. Her cold stare gave me the shivers.

After she arrived, Drapling stood up and shouted, “If I do not have order, I will have everyone silenced.” This quieted the crowd. “You may begin, Theylor,” he said.

Theylor rose and addressed the crowd. His image also appeared on giant transparent displays that floated over the center of the round room. “This tribunal has been convened by request of the Trading Council to discuss the rumors —”

“There are no rumors. The Softwire has breached the sanctity of the central computer!” an alien interrupted.

The crowd was on its feet, or whatever other appendages members of the assembly used to stand erect. The turmoil in the room appeared to be more than Drapling could control. Several security drones immediately activated small security bubbles. Pale yellow energy shields surrounded the heads of the loudest aliens, silencing them instantly.

“This is not good for relations between the Keepers and the Citizens,” Charlie whispered.

“Why?” I asked.

“There’s a pretty shaky balance between those who rule Orbis and those who control its wealth.”

“The War of Ten Thousand Rotations?” I asked. “That ended eons ago.”

“They still mistrust each other — a lot.”

I couldn’t believe I was in the middle of all of this. These aliens were so convinced that the central computer was infallible that they needed someone to blame. It could be anyone, even a thirteen-year-old kid. How would I convince them it wasn’t me? Would they believe me if I told them what I saw?

The crowd quieted after Drapling followed through with his threat, and Theylor continued. “Any judgment passed by this tribunal shall be fair and just. All fines or sentences will be carried out immediately, in accordance with the Keepers’ decree.”

Then, from a door under the Trading Council’s balcony, the massive alien Boohral emerged along with his cloned son and several other Trefaldoors. Everyone moved out of their way as these giant creatures crammed the center of the tribunal hall.

“Gaar Boohral,” Drapling demanded, “what is the meaning of this interruption?”

Boohral looked around the tribunal. He smiled. His eyes caught Madame Lee’s as she stared at what the large yellow alien clutched in his right hand.

“That’s a computer drive from the
Renaissance,
” I told Charlie. “What is he doing with that?”

Boohral held the metal box in the air while still staring at Madame Lee. “I have information from the Softwire’s ship that will rock the very foundation of this ring!” Boohral’s voice resonated throughout the tribunal. Several aliens took attack positions as Boohral’s brood circled their leader. Boohral glared at me. “Orbis is in great danger and I can prove it!”

Was he talking about the restricted files on the
Renaissance
? Was he talking about me? What had he found? I wanted to know what was on that drive now more than ever. Pandemonium spread through the tribunal. Security drones bubbled the loudest aliens at will. Theylor hurried quickly down to Charlie.

“Take the boy back —
now
!” he said with his right head, while his left head cautiously watched the crowd.

“No,” I said. “I want to know what Boohral found.”

“Kill the Softwire!” someone shouted.

“Hurry,” Theylor told Charlie.

Charlie grabbed my arm and dragged me through the crowd. I caught a glimmer from the drive still in Boohral’s hand.
What has he found?

“Get back,” Charlie shouted to an alien who reached over the barrier and pawed at me. Someone grabbed hold of the device I was wearing and wrenched my head back. I felt Charlie’s hand yanked from my arm and the crowd smother me.

“Charlie!” I yelled.

I couldn’t see who had me, but Charlie turned around and swung at the culprit. He threw another alien to the side and pulled me to my feet.

“Take this thing off me,” I told him.

“There’s no time,” he said. “We’ve got to keep going.”

Charlie thrust me toward the doors, holding his big arms out in front and ramming his way through the crowd. In all of the commotion, I was still dying to know what Boohral had found on that drive. Was it about me? My parents? It was all I was thinking about when Charlie finally broke through the doors.

The next time I saw Theylor, I felt like I had waited an entire phase. It was little comfort to me that only one cycle had passed in real time. My head was filled with so many questions about the tribunal, it was driving me crazy. I was pacing my blue cell when Theylor finally arrived.

“This time-stretching thing is going to take some getting used to,” I told him.

“Let us hope you are not here long enough for that to happen,” Theylor said.

“Can I go home, then? What did Boohral show you? Did they find the virus?”

Theylor held his hand up. “Please, Johnny. The tribunal could not continue. Threats have been made against Boohral also. The Keepers have arranged a private session at a secret location with the Trefaldoor the cycle after next. We will know everything then.”

“That’s it? You don’t know anything else? They still think it’s me?”

“I understand your frustration. You, too, must remain patient,” Theylor said. “As for your involvement, the Keepers are aware that there have been issues with the central computer since you have been placed here for study.”

“Then you agree something is wrong with the computer.”

“I do not know, and that is why we must continue with our tests,” he said.

“More tests! You’re kidding me.”

“I am sorry, Johnny, but time is of the greatest importance right now. May we begin?”

I was frustrated. Theylor’s tests weren’t getting me anywhere. And if they were still testing me, that meant someone still thought I had something to do with this mess. I plopped down in front of my display.

“I would like to examine your ability to stay in the computer when you push,” he said.

“You mean, how long I can do it for?”

“Yes.”

If they weren’t going to tell me anything, then I would have to get the information on my own. Theylor’s test gave me the perfect opportunity.

“So far you have mastered all of the surface-level user interfaces with the central computer. Now I want to see how deep you can go into the info-structure. I have hidden a file in the computer, called Ketheria, after your sister. I want you to find it.”

“Why don’t I simply tell the computer to find it for me?”

“The computer doesn’t know it is there.”

I looked at Theylor. “How can it not know it’s there?”

Theylor motioned to the O-dat without answering my question. “Take your time. If you feel anything strange, if you feel too weak, come back to me. Remember to remain grounded to this room.”

I pushed into the computer.
If Theylor could put something into the computer that the computer didn’t know about, why couldn’t someone else do the same thing — someone who wanted the computer to malfunction?

The familiar architecture whizzed by me as I connected with the computer’s user controls to access the file. The computer could not find it, just as Theylor said. Corridor after corridor lined with blocks of data storage stretched as far as I could see. Light encoded into bits sparkled along the corridors — like the trams that buzzed around Orbis. The central computer was a complex and breathtaking metropolis of data. How was I going to find a single file in a computer that controlled a space station the size of a small planet?

I started by sorting any new files tagged with this cycle’s date. That limited my search to 345,789,222,505,617,001 files. Not much help. I then accessed all files tagged with any Keeper’s personal signature. That helped, but with the entire set of automated tasks the Keepers had in place, it limited my search by only several hundred million files. I would never find this one file, let alone have time to search for information about the tribunal.

But I figured the only way Theylor could get a program into the computer without the computer knowing was to disguise the file as something else — but what or where? Maybe the file wasn’t even there anymore. Maybe it had been deleted. I asked the computer for the number of deleted files. That number exceeded my previous search. I asked the computer for the number of files created, then deleted, by Keepers within one diam, during this cycle.

Seventeen.

That was more like it. I accessed the computer for the origins of the deleted files. I needed to examine their origin, so I pushed my way in deeper. If I could simply relink those files to whoever had deleted them, I was certain I would find Theylor’s file marked
Ketheria.
Since the computer could not bring deleted files to me, I would eventually have to go to where they were stored.

The computer unfolded before me like an endless maze. Terabytes of info streamed along beads of light to their predetermined destinations, and I was able to shift the dimension of the computer only so far before I would have to push in farther. My body felt like it was stretching behind me, becoming no thicker than a data cable. I turned my head and tried to look at myself, but I only saw more of the computer. I was in Theylor’s digi, trying to look inside the bucket. I felt very fragile, and I was nowhere near the location of the file.

But I’m still in the examination room,
I told myself.

I made one more push through a cache of open portals to reach the Keepers’ storage location: rows and rows of colorful processing cubes, each with more power than a million seed-ship computers, linked together and stacked one on top of the other. The sides of each cube changed constantly as beads of light traveled among the storage devices. I located the spots where the seventeen files had been and asked the computer to link these former locations with files now in the trash so I could identify them. While I still felt strong enough, I retraced my path and headed for the trash.

Every discarded file, unused code, or anything else the computer no longer needed ended up in the trash. There was no organization, and bytes and data were strewn everywhere.

I pushed into the trash archives and immediately stopped.

Standing at one end of a large channel filled with data garbage was the little girl I always saw in my dreams. She was holding the file clearly marked
Ketheria.

“Hey!” I shouted at her.

The little girl was startled. She threw down the file and ran.

“Wait, don’t go. Who are you?”

When I pushed toward her, the little girl fired a stream of dazzling green electrons straight into the channel on the floor. They were just like the ones that had cloaked the mysterious program I had found trashing Weegin’s World. Instantly, a pile of trashed data files morphed into a menacing form whose enormous clawed hands thrust toward me. The little girl had used the discarded computer code to create a monster.

The creature’s head, with its shining white eyes, rose above the channel in the floor. Its gaping mouth moved closer, as if to swallow me whole. Saliva dripped from fangs protruding from its dark green head. The monster closed on me quickly before I could retreat. A gigantic four-clawed hand whipped around and grasped my face. I screamed as I felt its claws cut into my skin.

Wait,
I thought.
If she can create this thing, why can’t I uncreate it? I’m still in the examination room,
I reminded myself.

I closed my eyes in the face of the monster, interfaced with the computer, and deleted the trashed files. When I opened my eyes, the monster was already disintegrating. Bytes and pieces were falling off as the rest of the files flushed out through the channel in the floor. The garbage beast’s fangs were now reduced to large harmless holes. It was not long before the shape of the monster was barely recognizable and then — nothing. I was in the trash drive alone. The monster, the file, and the little girl were nowhere to be seen.

In the examination room, Theylor waited patiently.

“You were gone a long time. Your vital signs appeared very weak,” Theylor said.

I stared at the O-dat for a few moments, taking in what had just happened.

“I . . . if . . .” I looked at Theylor.

“Are you all right? Remember,” Theylor warned, “never let your entire essence enter the computer. Always remain grounded to the outside world.”