Pitch darkness would have characterized the room if not for the marvelous computer arrangement. Little More than a crooked series of seats, wires, and converted toasters.
Crammed between the hardware of the dark tent sat an inconspicuous woman glued to a black, vintage monitor. Yet another stranger whose red hair gleamed under green glass, absorbed in her computational task.
The sound of tapping keys persisted elsewhere, steering Jessica to a black-haired boy in a beanie. Perhaps no older than thirteen, he sequentially snapped his fingers six times then switched hands before returning to the keyboard. Likewise glued to the screen, his head persistently lulled on his shoulder.
He's autistic.
A few steps ahead of Jess, Amon peered over his shoulder at her. "The others are sleeping, but that's Beelz," he said, indicating the fairer redhead. "She won't notice you when she's focused." He pointed to the boy. "Same goes for Boros over there, except he's always that way."
"Join the club," Jessica muttered under her breath.
Amon stepped beside Boros and had his hand smacked away the moment he fingered the stack of crackers on his plate.
"And this is our humble lair," Amon finished, waving his arms. "There's an unused setup you can use, Lynx"—he pointed to a small, black box console flat on one of many desks—" which you may use to log into Ghost Wire. No one needs to suspect that Lynx and Jessica are the same people. Password for login is the latest crypto coin."
"Fitting," Jessica remarked. "Why do I get the feeling I was always meant to come here? This place. Dissent."
"Fate?" Amon shrugged. "An inconvenient set of permutations in the unknowable sequence we call life? Nope, a higher power was probably involved. Either way, I have data to review."
Jessica curiously observed Amon settle next to the mysterious Beelz. She didn't seem to notice him, either.
"Now that we're in the bat cave," started Shannon, "how do we start fighting crime?"
Valerie yawned. "I'd rather we do that in the morning. I said I'd lead us to a safe place, and this is as safe as it gets. We can, por lo mejor, get some sleep until Monarch figures out the next plan."
"I'm kinda worried about that," said Jessica, starting toward the computers. "First thing's first: housecleaning." She set fingers on the console when a virtual screen beamed a bright blue ray upon them. She logged into Ghost Wire.
In studying the website, she discovered that Procel and Helios had completely fallen off the grid, so pondered how their disappearance might relate to Goliath, then contemplated further whether Helios and Malvis were one and the same.
"Bitgold's value has gone up," she said. "Ain't that some—"
"What are Bitgolds?" asked Valerie.
"Cryptocurrency."
"Uhuh?"
Jessica held a microchip between her middle and index fingers. "You know how the slightest touch of a web lets the spider trace the origin? Say it's a horsefly—whatever. In cryptocurrency, the unending stream of digital transactions is the web, while the trapped fly is a transaction, and those of us who give and take, weaving the unending blockchain, we are the spider. The web never ends; the fly never leaves."
"That is an interesting analogy," said Shannon. "I'm still not sure I understand."
Jessica inserted the chip into the console. "I'm so happy they have solid keyboards here." Her fingers eventually triggered a single audio playback.
"We are not inept dogs."
"Who is that talking?"said Valerie.
"I hoped you'd recognize it," said Jessica.
"We are not inept dogs..."
Jessica placed her finger on the virtual monitor and massaged the soundwaves. "You know how many services utilize voice command?"
"We just heard that conversation," said Shannon. "It was between Malvis and that terrorist."
"Between terrorists," Jessica corrected. She trimmed the playback into three audio segments:
"We are not inept dogs"; "These people owe you something?"; "Whatever."
"Your everyday voice algorithm isolates wavelength patterns," Jess continued. "It records voices, collates their unique signals, and formulates a vocal signature before storing it in the database, unbeknownst to everyone but authorities. Privacy acts are just cardboard fences. Virtually anything with a processor utilizes the vocal algorithm." As she spoke, Jessica's fast fingers cast a spell on the screen. "We're the only ones who know what Malvis's partner in crime really sounds like. Everyone in New Sumer heard an artificial voice. What's more, I bet the wavelengths were reconfigured manually."
"Terrorists normally don't want to be found," Shannon said frustratedly. "But what makes you think the recording in Valerie's data wasn't manipulated?"
"Because I think an Azarean encrypted this file."
"And?"
"You ever met an Azarean, Shannon?"
"I have come into contact with them. Why?"
"They're full of themselves," said Valerie.
"Bing. Arrogant, to be precise," Jessica said.
"So, I guess an Azarean adding an extra layer of security would require them to presuppose that someone can break through the first," Shannon rejoined.
"Which is ridiculous, but we broke through two. "Her next button-press initiated a flow of code on the monitor.
Valerie beamed. "Are you doing what I think you're doing?"
"What am I doing?" Jessica said coyly.
"You're, umm, doing the stuff with the voice algorithm."
"Cross-referencing our mystery man's real voice with every voice in the vocal database."
"Tell me no one is tracking that."
Jessica scoffed. "Well, as a precaution, I'm bouncing the signal off multiple IP addresses. And as an extra-extra precaution, I initiated the hack from someone else's personal computer. Because, you know, precautions..."
"That's fucked up!" Shannon stammered. "You mean, you're using that computer to hack another computer to hack another computer?"
"If you want to oversimplify..."
"Whose computer are you hacking?"
A random wail punched through the console speakers. "Why can't I steam my anime!" Jessica and her friends lent their undivided attention to a live feed. They saw her apartment acquaintance, Jeffrey, throwing a tantrum in sleek white pajamas.
"If he does get tracked, they won't find anything," she told them. "Besides, the voice search is being rerouted within and throughout Goliath's network. Invisible." She began whirling her hands for effect. "And the results will land right where I want them." She unstrapped her backpack and retrieved her Vit, whose screen revealed the exact same cryptic web of wavelengths that played on the monitor. "For now, we play the waiting game."
"For Beth's sake, I do hope you find him," said Valerie.
"And what will you do when you find that man?" said Shannon.
Jessica rubbed her chin. "What am I going to do, or what do I want to do?"
Shannon leered.
Amon returned from his five-minute hiatus to supplant himself in the middle of the girls' conversation. "I knew it was a good idea to keep you on our radar, but it was actually a great idea. The flash drive you gave me is a handheld hotbed of conspiracy."
"Valerie is the one who brought it to me," Jessica muttered.
Amon's shades fell on Valerie. "So, you procured it, and she cracked it. Does that sound right?"
"Si, basically," answered Valerie. "But explain, tall, red and handsome. What did you find?"
"Maybe they're running super-secret experiments on humans?" Shannon guessed. "Probably abducting us in invisible spaceships. God, I hope they're not eating people."
Amon took off his glasses and glared. "May I?"
"Proceed, Cracker."
He inhaled sharply. "Goliath is secretly funneling finances into research across several black sites. Then there's this headquarter floor that's not on official records."
"Another secret?" said Jessica.
"Looks like it. Couldn't be sure, so I dug deeper but found nothing but a list of names."
"Lemme see."
Amon held out an old touch-screen phone. Jessica found nothing of interest until she read the very, very last name. David Mourner. Her shoulders knotted. "Are these people related to something specific?"
"Storage," said Amon.
"The hell does that mean?"
"Whoever these people are, I hope their experience is nothing like mine was."
Jessica mentally tried to piece together Amon's story. "Sorry," she muttered.
He shook his head. "Not now. Whoever these people are, they know things."
"Like the fact that SK-3 was a fractured security algorithm Goliath wants to cover up?"
"Right." Amon's brow furrowed, eyes rolling into his head.
3...
2...
1...
"Wait..." A neon green light blinked above him. "If that's true—"
"People would attribute the breach of New Sumer's network to a corporate mishap," said Jessica.
"But—"
"The chip says that Goliath staged the breach and the terrorist attack from the get-go."
"Which means—"
"SK-3 was dead on arrival, probably intentionally, and not compromised by an external hack. The fault in Goliath's coding was ignored or deliberate, which could implicate them in a conspiracy. The average Joe Schmoe and Jane Doe wouldn't understand that. The fake terrorist ploy helped Goliath publicize the lie of a breached—but actually broken—algorithm. But if people learn the truth about SK-3's shittiness..."
Amon's expression was not the picture of surprise Jessica expected. Instead, his half-smirk was bitter-sweet.
"Goliath is vulnerable," she finished.
"They engineer terrorism," Amon nodded. "Terrorism engineers new security directives. Although, I don't understand why they didn't use an older security algorithm and lay the blame there. Why invent a faulty one, considering the risk?"
"Which is why I believe it was a mistake." Jessica closed her fist. "Goliath made a mistake."
ns 15.158.61.40da2
