"Goliath, Inc."
While images of rail lines, high-tech trains, sleek aircraft, and floating houses played on separate holo screens, a female voiceover provided exposition: "Goliath Corp., proudly serving humanity since 2021. Goliath stands at the cutting-edge of innovation through the continued support of advanced ALI interfacing—"
"Skip."
Green letters spelling Goliath headed several menus, one for each unique hologram panel. From left to right and left to right, page labels: About, Housing, GTrack, Aerospace, Missions, ALI Implementation, and so forth.
Jessica rolled in her chair, toward the shelves in the center of the room, rows of black tablets stacked above the clothing drawers. She pulled one from the row labeled K before returning to the desktop. After powering the tablet, an ad immediately popped: 'Back to the Future: The Re-remake now available on Tundra,' an advertisement that left her scowling. "Gotta remember to remove that feature," she muttered. Thus, to the section labeled Library, she tapped and searched until she found the e-book labeled Essays: First Series; underneath it, RWE. She scrolled with her left hand while the fingers of her right speed-typed on the keyboard.
Typing, typing, typing. Jessica left the Goliath net page and input characters into a command prompt. All nine screens filled with lines of seemingly random code, the screen scrolling through them like lightning while she read from the e-book and chewed on a slice of mushroom pizza.
Beep.
She looked up. Backspace. She wiped the remaining pizza from her uniform before pulling up the command prompt. On the first three screens, tables displayed lines and lines of code that shone off her distinguishing irises. Several keys later, the computer highlighted particular strands of characters across all tables in red.
"No way." She did away with the screens of code. "Call David from Goliath." The ringtone played over the profile picture of nothing but a green G. During the dial, she turned a knob on the projector.
The screen eventually revealed a man who looked to be in his thirties. "Hello," he said in a collected tone. She only saw his sandy face and the green hat spelling 'Goliath' on his head of short dark hair. "Lynx," he continued, "you have something for me?"
"Perhaps more than you're ready for..."
***
'Computer Software' – The big green letters overhead were visible to anyone exiting the 7th-floor elevator, preceding rows of holo-terminals operated by men and women in white-collar coats. The left perimeter contained the memo board, neon green letters transitioning under one name: Goliath. A path on the other side of the board entered a circumventing corridor with three parallel doors. Three signs: a stick figure, a skirted stick figure, and a pointy-eared stick figure. Just on the other side of the terminals lay a closed office with tinted windows. The door had the name 'David M. inscribed'; below that, 'Director.'
David's office space was more spacious and had a sofa by the door. At the opposite end of his rectangular abode lay the terminal, where he sat in his non-collared green coat over a white jumpsuit. He stared into the live hologram showing a lynx cat.
"Five days," said the lynx, whose voice mimed a young man's London accent. "I'm sending the functions to you now."
Seconds passed before the hologram displayed two screenshots, green line after green line of code with the same characters on both screens highlighted in red.
"What did you say your bit value was?" the lynx continued.
"Five—"
"Five-twelve, right?"
David's jaw fell. "Yea, this is very strange."
"Well, whoever these hash functions were designed for, I hope they didn't need them for secrets or anything."
"I need to verify this!"
"Be my guest. It's in your email."
A few moments of silence passed in which David opened and downloaded Lynx's attachments from his NovaMail account.
Contact: Lynx
Subject: awww shiiiet xoxo
Diagrams crossed David's projector as he analyzed Lynx's data, total focus simmering in his eyes.
Lynx very casually broke the silence. "So, how was your day?"
"Productive. Fine. Revelatory."
"That's cool." Meanwhile, on the other side, Jessica sat elbow over her desk, cracking fingers: 1, 2, 3, 4, cracks. Mild boredom played on her face as she watched David work his keypad on the other side. "So how was your day, Lynx?" she mumbled to herself. "Oh, well, you know... made some deliveries, spent some time chillin' with Beth, found security vulnerabilities in what is probably signature encryption for essential interfaces like railway, communications, etc. Thanks for asking!"
"How was your day?" said David.
Jessica straightened the dumb look on her face, then quickly sat upright and pressed the proper key. "Not bad," she answered.
"I wonder what that means in your line of work."
"It means I'm still Lynx."
David smirked at the screen. Finally, a mathematical algorithm hit the blue of his holographic interface. Then another one appeared beside it, Lynx's data. Both algorithms slid together and merged perfectly, flashing three times.
"By the deities," said David in disbelief. "You actually found cracks... Frak!"
"Is this algorithm supposed to be uncrackable or something?" said Jessica.
"Sorry. Just... I gotta get on this."
"Care to tell me about its application?"
"I think it's in your best interest, and mine, that I don't."
"Suit yourself."
"Expect due payment by tomorrow. I'm glad you came to me with this as fast as you did."
"You know, I don't expect anything," Jessica affirmed.
"Well, Goliath doesn't pay you for your skills as much as your discretion. Although, if you wanted to get paid officially, Spearhead has openings."
Jessica rolled her eyes on the other side of the screen, contemplating whether or not David was too generous for his own good. She could have found worse, though, so far as computer software engineers went.
"You know," he continued, "that source code went through several Goliath channels. Nobody could hack it after a month of attempts. You're either very talented or our people very inept... or lazy."
Or worse, Jessica thought. "Maybe, I had more to work with."
"I need to investigate where the coding failed. What operating system do you run?"
"You don't hack and tell," she replied. "Update your hash and you should be fine. Use SHA-5 or something."
"I'll take it up with the top. Should be dealt with quickly, and thanks again."
David's screen went blank, Jessica left alone in her chair to silently reflect.
"Ghost Wire Forums," Jessica said. Her computer connected to the Ghost Wire web page. She was greeted by a robot ghost with a sinister smiley, followed by a list of threads; from 'How do I escape Ransomware?' to 'Developing ALI Encryption.' Jessica's clicks carried her to an area of the forum titled 'Corporate-Implemented Cryptography,' which displayed an alphabetical list of company names along with the names of supposed ciphers.
Under the Goliath page, she scanned the user comments and scrolled until she found one in the form of a question. It belonged to the username, Lynx. Her comment had received several replies:
Lynx: So aside from activities listed on their website, what espionage might Goliath Inc. be involved in?
NatsuXDragneel: Why would there be other activities?
SwagCipher067: My goliath has its own activities. Come over and I'll show you.
OhShitItsSombra: Wanna see my goliath?
Anonymous: I've got a goliath for you.
Eventually, she found a solid answer: Anonymous: Like many of today's corporations, Goliath's CEO is probably nothing more than a spokesperson for Azarean interests. Any of their 'activities' could make them party to aerospace innovation, cyberwarfare applications, and even agricultural development, none of which are officially listed on its website. Furthermore, Goliath is rumored to be developing telecommunications infrastructure in Antarctica at the behest of Spearhead, a subsidiary recognized for its research into laser and plasma technologies. Some say Spearhead is just the government in disguise. Although, no paper trail exists. SO beware of black sites.
Automatically, Jessica replied to the reply. "How the hell do you know all this?"
She received an immediate answer. It read: You asked, I answered.
"What is the probability of such a thing as a black site?" she asked herself. "What is the probability of shenanigans in Azarean-regulated business?"
The probability of error in human-run applications, at any moment, is 100%. The probability of error in alien-controlled actions: unknown; the probability of alien criminality, different but still unknown. Azareans are secretive and have always been an enigma for their closely guarded secrets.
Another thought tackled Jessica. "The probability of David's awareness to potential foul play: 50/50."
ns 15.158.61.42da2
