Code Breakers: Alpha Page 14

  “Download it to the server node responsible for the security of the vaccine unit. But trust me. I doubt you’ll have a free run of it. Although the slate will get you so far, all data on Seca’s network is closely monitored.”

  Molly leaned back, crossed her legs, and lit a cigarette. The smoke filled the room, making the place hazy. It had a sweet aroma to it. Gerry’s nostrils twitched as he breathed in the smoke. “What’s that?” All cigarettes had been banned from the Dome. In fact, all non-medicinal drugs were banned. Which was no real problem as there wasn’t anyone with the resources to manufacture recreational drugs.

  “Just a little relaxant,” Molly said, holding the cigarette between her forefinger and index finger so that it pointed away from her. She cut a cool figure sitting there shrouded in smoke. “I find it helps with these kind of things. Helps focus the mind.”

  A tickling cough played at the back of Gerry’s throat, but he could feel himself become numb. His heart rate slowed, and his mind stopped whirling with anxiety.

  “Just let it take you away,” Molly said. Her voice was low and seductive. He wasn’t sure if that was just her or the effects of the drugs, but he nodded, listened to her voice, and concentrated on his breathing. Once in the mindset, he connected to the HackSlate with his dermal implant.

  “Are you ready?” Molly said.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Once you log in, the HackSlate has a directory with the network address of the vaccine storage unit. The AI, however, is stored somewhere else. Don’t worry about that. It’ll come to you. Just get past it and locate the security node’s exact address. The payload needs to know that to be fully functional. You’ll see how it works when you activate it. It’s super simple. The trick is surviving the AI.”

  Molly’s form dissolved as the interface from the slate took over his optical nerve. A familiar sense of connection came in the form of a series of buzzes. His vision and perception went dark. A second later a gridlike interface filled his vision. Each square of the grid represented a program.

  Following Molly’s advice, he activated a directory on the interface and read the file within. It gave him the rough network address of the vaccine storage unit. The physical grid location showed it was situated within the centre of Darkhan city, some twenty kilometres from his current position. That physical distance, however, was of little consequence. The network allowed him to reach the node that managed the security of the vaccine unit with a few thoughts of his mind.

  He began to analyse the flow of data on the network as it passed through the HackSlate. That was one of the device’s main uses: it would spoof itself as a computer on the network and divert traffic through its processor, where the user could alter the data to his or her desire.

  In Gerry’s case, he wanted to hack into the security server and deliver the software virus Len had created. A strategy was starting to form.

  The data that he analysed was various instructions from the vaccine unit to the security server and back again. At first he thought he’d have a free run at it and would be able to drop the payload. Optimism was a cruel mistress, though.

  The AI charged with keeping the vaccines safe and secure had shut off the flow of data and zeroed in on Gerry as his mind delved deeper into the flow of bits.

  A sensation like being electrocuted surrounded his head. His first instinct was to disconnect from the HackSlate, but his retreat was blocked, and he fell further into the network, compelled by the massive code base of the security system. Although he wasn’t in a VR world, the AI appeared to be similar to the one he saw back at Enna’s place: tentacular within its system of multifunctioning programs, all branching out from a central, intelligent body.

  With a foreboding sense of horror, Gerry realised that the code his brain was developing to counteract the AI was actually feeding into it. The electrical buzzing in his mind increased as he put more and more of himself into keeping up with the attacks. The AI pumped gigabytes of data a second through the system to Gerry, overloading his neural capacity to cope with the flood of information. It was like someone had attached audio and video feeds directly to his ventral pathways in the parietal lobe—the part of the brain responsible for integrating information from the different senses in order to create a picture of the world.

  Sweat poured from his forehead. His heart rate beat faster than he thought was even possible. Code spun out of his mind chaotically as he panicked in trying to stem the flow from the AI.

  He wanted to shout out or scream, but that part of the brain remained unavailable. All resources were busy in dealing with this attack. From somewhere far out of his cognition he heard Molly’s voice.

  “Calm down, Gerry. Focus on the AI’s central core. Ignore the other programs. They’re decoys.”

  Her voice came to him in snatches, and it took a few seconds to fully comprehend the words. But eventually they built up a picture in his mind of what to do.

  One of the anti-hacking programs from the AI attempted to attack his temporal lobe, the area of the brain that managed perception, learning, and memory. Gerry went on the counter-attack. He couldn’t afford for that part to be damaged. It was the core of everything he was able to do. Without the ability to form memories or learn, he’d be nothing more than a dumb unit like one of the NearlyMen.

  Focusing all his energies on a single spearlike program, he constructed a complicated process using some of the ideas he learned from the Helix++ book: A set of algorithms that mutated at an exponential rate.

  Dropping the software program into the flow of traffic between him and his attacker, Gerry let his mind follow behind, using the software as a kind of mine sweeper. Such was its size and increasing nature, it started to overwhelm the intelligent code and made it use more of its own resources to cope with Gerry’s counter-attack.

  One by one, the tentacular applications that made Gerry’s mind buzz like a transformer dropped away as their code fragmented under his attack.

  “You’re close, Gerry! Keep going,” Molly’s voice called out from beyond a veil of darkness. It gave him hope, and he plunged further into the computer system, letting more of himself become binary, all the time pushing his countermeasure forward.

  He knew he was gaining ground. The security program had uninstalled all but one of its processes in order to battle Gerry’s software tool and had retreated to its own server where, presumably, it had its own firewalls to protect it.

  That was an interesting thought right there: the AI was concerned with self-preservation. If it did retreat completely, it would give Gerry a clear route to the computer responsible for the security system on the vaccine storage unit.

  Energised and feeling the adrenaline course through his body, Gerry put one last effort into his attack, forcing the ever-growing program ahead of him as his consciousness became one with the network.

  The AI appeared to scream and shrink as Gerry thrust out with his mind. He chased the intelligent software through the flows of data. Ahead, he could sense a much larger network of computers. A specific node was open and waiting.

  Sensing it was a trap, Gerry eased off as the AI pulled away into the node. A firewall slammed shut, deleting his attack program, leaving Gerry unprotected. But more importantly, the AI was securely on the other side. He grabbed the opportunity. Forgetting about the AI, he took the risk of turning his metaphorical back on it and raced his mind through the connections of computers until he found the vaccine unit’s node.

  “Now or never,” he thought as he dropped in Len’s payload virus.

  It unfolded immediately, creating a storm of code cascading through the network like white, rushing waters breaching a dam. It caught Gerry in the wake, frying his brain with an impossible level of feedback. He just caught sight of the vaccine node crashing under the effects of the payload before his vision turned to black.

  ***

  A physical jolt that made his body spasm uncontrollably ripped through him like a flash of lightning. The HackS
late fell to the floor in a pool of blood. A pair of hands were on his head and another on his ankles.

  “What the hell? What happened? Where…” He tried to speak, but the words jumped from his throat like rats from a sinking ship. The room spun. He felt like a hot poker had been forced into his brain stem. Lava flowed up and down his spinal column.

  “Hold on, man,” said a voice. He couldn’t tell if it was male or female, the words distorted. Pressure increased on his head and ankles when he felt bile rise in his throat. With a single convulsion, he arched his back, breaking the grip from the dark figures. He turned to his side and threw up on the floor.

  A hand pressed gently against his back. Another brought a cloth to his face.

  Once he got his breath back and wiped his face, the room stopped spinning. It was still smoky from earlier, and the air was still rich with that sweet aroma. He breathed it in, taking in great lungfuls, replenishing his body with oxygen. The drug, whatever it was, helped to reduce his heart rate and clear the burning sensation in his brain.

  “You did it, Gez.” Petal kneeled beside him. “That was incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Sitting made a bright flare explode in his vision. It cleared shortly after Gabe, Petal, and Molly helped him to the sofa. He looked to the floor and saw the mess he had made.

  “I’ve got to stop doing that,” he said, pointing to the pool of vomit.

  “Just your body’s way of dealing with the trauma,” Molly said. “I’ve seen worse. The last hacker who tried to get to the vaccines had his brain leak out of his ears. Yours, Gerry, seems in one piece.”

  As if confirming that his brains hadn’t actually leaked out, he reached his hands to his head. The throbbing had started to clear. Presumably the calming effects of the drug. “That was fucked up,” he said. “Worst experience of my life.”

  “But ya did it, man,” Gabe said, grinning widely in the dark. “Ya delivered the payload.”

  “What now?” Gerry asked. “Are we done here?”

  Petal sat next to him. “Yeah, you held up our end of the bargain. We can go.”

  “I don’t think he’s in any state,” Molly said, putting an arm around Gerry. “I think he should stay here with me for a while.”

  Petal pushed her arm off Gerry’s shoulder. “Get your mitts off him. He’s done enough for you.”

  Molly backed away, raising her palms. “Easy, girl. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s been through a lot, is all.”

  “Hey,” Gerry said. “I am still here, you know.” He stood and waited for his balance to recalibrate. It felt like he was walking on ice for a moment. He reached out as he tipped forward. Gabe stopped him and held him up in a mirror image of their first meeting.

  “Thanks, Gabe,” Gerry said. With his help, he turned to Molly. “There is one thing you can do for me, if you want.”

  “Sure, name it.” Molly gave him a coquettish smile.

  “Any chance of a drink? Something strong? I’m bloody parched after that.”

  “Sure thing, babe, come with me. Drinks are on the house for all of you today. It’s the least we can do.”

  Chapter 15

  Molly led the three of them through to the bar. A ripple of applause came from the various patrons. The news had clearly got out. Gerry blushed with the attention. Petal stood by his side and elbowed him gently in the ribs. “Look who’s Mr Popular Guy today, eh?”

  “I don’t know about that,” Gerry said. “I was just doing a job. It was Len’s payload that did the heavy lifting. I just dropped it in.”

  “Sure, that’s all you did. You’re too modest, Gez. You kicked that thing’s ass in a way I’ve never seen before. Man, that was freakin’ awesome.”

  Gerry shrugged, returned Petal’s infectious smile, and took his seat next to her in one of the plush, cushioned booths. Molly brought him a bowl of hot soup and a pint of purified water. After serving everyone, she slid in next to Gabe.

  “Well, you lot,” Molly said. “All us Upsiders owe you a debt of gratitude. That was spectacular.”

  “What happens now?” Petal said.

  “We take over.” A shadow stretched over the booth. The bar became silent. Gabe looked up, his face impassive. Gerry and Petal looked around and saw two masked figures in black standing by their booth. Each one carried a long rifle on their back and a number of weapons on their belts: knives, pistols, batons.

  Gerry recognised the one who spoke. The woman who had fired at him when Len’s people first brought the Jaguar down. She stared at Gerry as if analysing him for something. “You did well,” she said. “I appreciate that. It couldn’t have been easy, and you took a huge risk for us. I for one thought you wouldn’t go through with it. But Len trusted you.”

  “Um, thanks,” Gerry said. “I’m pleased I could help. What will you do now?”

  “Ghanus and I,” she pointed to the mute man standing beside her, rippling with muscles beneath his dark form-fitting clothes, “will storm the unit and recover the vaccines before Seca manages to reboot the security system. I just wanted to come back to thank you for giving us this opportunity. I’m afraid we don’t have time to stay here and show our gratitude fully.”

  “I understand,” Gerry said. “I hope you get the vaccines.”

  “We will. One way or another,” the woman said. She held out her gloved hand to Gerry. “I’m Liza-Marie, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Gerry took her hand. “I’d say the same, but you shot at me.” He gave her a quick smile to show he was joking, but she didn’t react. She shook her head before releasing him and turned away with her compatriot.

  “We have transport into Darkhan if you want to come with us,” she said, stopping at the door. “And by transport, I mean the truck Len gave you. Sorry, but we had to commandeer it. Vehicular resources are scarce these days. And Len didn’t want to risk the Jaguar in the city. Too many drones floating about.”

  Gabe stood, incensed that they’d taken the truck. Gerry put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right, Gabe. I’m ready to go. We can take this with us.” He pointed to the soup.

  “I’ll box it up for you,” Molly said. “You should go with them. You can’t simply walk into Darkhan on your own.”

  Gerry thanked her, took the boxed soup and flasks of water, and with the others followed Liza-Marie and Ghanus to the truck. The journey into Darkhan would take about an hour, Ghanus said, as they set off towards the city. There was no small talk between them as Ghanus drove the truck through a labyrinth of tunnels and tight roads, snaking between ramshackle buildings and shanty dwellings.

  Groups of mutated survivors huddled together in hovels and hastily made tents. They all just stared at them with their milky eyes as they drove further into the city.

  Ghanus stopped the truck in a dark alley.

  “This is your stop,” he said, looking into the back of the truck where Gerry, Gabe, and Petal sat on the hard wooden bench. “Good luck with whatever you’re trying to do.”

  And that was that. Gabe led them out of the rear of the truck, and a second later Ghanus drove off to leave them there in the middle of the city.

  “Right,” Gabe said. “We should probably go find Seca’s compound while we’re here. Ain’t exactly a place for sightseeing.”

  Gerry and Petal followed Gabe as he strode out into the city like some kind of aboriginal bushman.

  ***

  Darkhan sprawled like a chaotic maze. It featured much of the same damage to the tall buildings as the last place. Dark streets melted between centuries-old architecture. Old stone museums stood proud and relatively damage-free next to crumbled glass and steel structures.

  Rudimentary tents hung from the sides of office blocks and shopping centres. Their dirty brown material sagged in the middle. Probably to catch what little rain came. Gerry doubted it’d be safe to drink. But given the state of the people huddled under their makeshift roofs, he knew they w
ere unlikely to be too concerned anymore. Their still-bright eyes shone out from blackened faces. Kids with lank hair chased each other through the makeshift shanty streets.

  Occasionally, Gerry spotted groups of men and women carrying stun-batons, enforcing some inner-city law, taking things from the people at the lowest level. It sickened him to see humanity degenerate into such an abusive system. Given how few remained outside of the Dome, he’d have hoped they’d have helped each other instead of preying on the weak for scraps of food and clothing.

  Gabe forced a way through a shambling horde of filthy Upsiders. Gerry and Petal followed behind. The dishevelled people stank of rotten vegetables and things too bitter and sweet to be anything other than days and weeks of encrusted body odour. Gerry gagged, pulling his shirt over his mouth and nose as he continued to push his way down the crowded street.

  On either side of the street, blackened buildings rose into the sky. The sun was dipping down towards the horizon, casting long, raking shadows across the narrow street.

  Now that Len’s people were on their way to get their vaccines, he hoped these people could get better. Hacking coughs caused streams of blood to flow down the chins of a group of men and women stood around a small fire. Gerry noticed the lack of children, just as Len had intimated.

  “Fresh meat, roasted only yesterday,” shouted a street vendor from behind a column of steam. Gerry’s guts turned with the smell. He was glad he had the ration packs. He couldn’t live like these poor bastards.

  “What the hell is that?” Gerry asked, pointing to the blackened ‘meat’ as they passed the vendor within his alcove made from the crumbled side of a building.

  “Man, that stuff’s riddled with hagworm,” Gabe said. “Everything here is. It’ll eat ya guts out right from inside ya.” Gabe pushed on further into the crowd.

  As Gerry followed, the buzzing in his head grew more insistent, like a bee trapped in a jar. Only every now and then, he’d get a flash of an image, of home, of his wife and kids, of his job. It was like memories were being found, dragged from dark, hidden corners. Maybe his brain was repairing itself after having most of his images wiped when he uninstalled his AIA. Perhaps they weren’t stored with Mags after all.