The alarm varied in pitch and another window sprang to life on his monitor — this one showing some kind of virus attacking the servers in Canada. The system was rerouting traffic through excess capacity in Mexico but there was still a two percent slowdown worldwide. How could a virus have worked its way that deep into his system?
Another change in alarm pitch was accompanied by a screen showing a T-Mobile network in Southern Europe crashing, along with a number of independent Internet service providers throughout North America.
System security would be tracking the source of the disturbances and he pulled up the list, staring at it for a moment in disbelief. This wasn’t a coordinated effort by the NSA and their foreign counterparts — the entire assault was coming from two terminals in Javier de Galdiano’s office.
Dresner tried to shut them down, but found himself locked out as disturbances kept appearing all over the globe. Two cable companies went down in California, increasing the slowdown to twelve percent and disconnecting more than forty thousand users. A server farm in Kansas went offline as the power grid began pulsing beyond the capacity of its surge protectors. The temperature of a critical switch in Arizona suddenly went outside of parameters and began its shutdown sequence.
Dresner closed the windows on his monitor and brought up the videoconference software that connected him to de Galdiano. He didn’t expect it to work and was surprised when the screen was immediately filled with the image of the man’s office. In its center was Jon Smith, standing directly behind the Spaniard as he typed furiously on his keyboard. At the other terminal, working even more manically, was a bearded man whom he suspected was Martin Zellerbach. Standing at the nearly opaque glass wall was Randi Russell.
“Javier! What are you doing?”
He expected to see fear in the man’s face — some hint that he was acting under threat — but there was none in evidence when he looked up at the camera. He was doing this voluntarily.
“They told me you’re going to use my algorithm to kill people, Christian.”
“And you believed them?”
“If they’re lying then I’ve made a bad mistake and you should fire me. But they’re not lying, are they?”
A server farm in Thailand was overwhelmed but the Canadian virus had been isolated and that capacity was coming back online for a net increase in bandwidth. Worldwide, the average slowdown was hovering just under thirty percent; total users were sixteen percent below nominal levels.
“No one screws with Marty Zellerbach!” the bearded man suddenly shouted. “I once key logged the computer of God himself!”
Wild-eyed and obviously mentally ill, Zellerbach was nonetheless one of the best hackers in the world. With Javier’s cooperation, could he really threaten the entire network?
Dresner moved to reset the servers in Thailand but found that the control system would now read out only in that language. Finally, he took a step back and used his Merge to connect to the head of the Granada campus’s security detail.
“Yes sir, Mr. Dresner,” the man said, obviously shocked to be contacted directly by the founder of the company he worked for. “What can I do for you?”
“There are people in Javier de Galdiano’s office trying to sabotage LayerCake. It appears that Javier is working with them — or perhaps even leading them. I need you to take control of those terminals at any cost.”
There was a disconcerting silence before the man responded. “I understand, sir. But the elevators have shut down and the locks on the doors leading to the stairs have frozen.”
Dresner slammed a fist down next to his keyboard. Of course Javier would have access to the computer controlling the building.
“How long?”
“We’re working on the locks now, sir. Less than five minutes to get a team to his floor.”
“Five minutes?” Dresner repeated, taking another hesitant step backward. How much more damage would the system suffer in that time?
“Do it,” he said and then shut down the connection.
When he looked at the computer screen again, Smith was staring directly at him through the camera in the ceiling.
“I’m almost there!” Zellerbach shouted, the spit flying from his mouth visible even with the marginal resolution of the image. “Once my new virus is uploaded, it’s lights-out. I guarantee you, Dresner’s never seen anything like it. No one has!”
The beginnings of a smile played at Smith’s lips. And while it was nearly imperceptible, the look in his eyes was easy to read: Victory.
There was no way to deny what was happening any longer. Dresner had to face the fact that he wouldn’t have the time necessary to change the world in the way that he’d dedicated his life to. A simple army physician had put an end to that dream. But he could still act. And he could pray that it was enough to give humanity a chance to save itself.
Dresner met his adversary’s gaze, examining the smug expression for longer than he should have before expanding the icon that activated the Merge’s concealed hardware.
“You have no idea what you’ve done, Colonel.”
74
“We’ve got company!”
Smith turned toward Randi’s voice and looked through the smoky glass at the armed detail pouring from the stairwell. Programmers appeared over the tops of their cubicles, watching the men with a mix of curiosity and fear.
“Everyone get down!” Smith shouted.
Javier had dealt with these men for years and was already way ahead of him — dragging his terminal to the floor and lying flat next to it with his hand hovering over the enter key.
Zellerbach, on the other hand, was lost in his own world — hammering away at his keyboard, muttering unintelligibly as he wreaked havoc in the world Dresner had created. Knowing that there was no point in trying to get his attention when he was like this, Smith ran at him and knocked him off his chair. The hacker squealed in protest, but was pacified when Smith moved the terminal to the floor in front of him.
Smith returned his attention to the guards and saw them fanning out to cover a man yanking on the locked door to the office. The programmers wisely started bolting for the exits.
“Any idea what kind of glass this is or how thick?” Randi said.
“I didn’t build the place!” de Galdiano answered, flattening himself further on the carpet. “Talk to the architect.”
She aimed her experimental pistol at the man trying to get through the door, lining up at an angle intended to keep a ricochet from bouncing back at her, then pulled the trigger.
It turned out to be regular tempered glass and not particularly thick. The ceramic projectile missed the man on the other side, but did succeed in collapsing the entire wall in a spectacular shower. With the opaque barrier gone, they were now fully visible to the ten or so security men on the other side. It took less than a second for them to open up with everything they had.
Randi dropped behind the meter-tall band of steel and Smith slithered across the floor to de Galdiano who, to his credit, seemed to be keeping it together. Randi aimed blindly over the wall and fired in the general direction of their attackers, but there wasn’t much else she could do. Dents began appearing in the metal behind her and the air was filled with the deafening ring of impacts. The barrier held, though. Security hadn’t brought anything designed to penetrate anything tougher than human flesh. Yet.
Smith was only a meter or two from de Galdiano when an intense ache enveloped his right arm. At first, he thought he might have been hit, but that was something he unfortunately had a great deal of experience with. This was completely different — something he’d never felt before.