Author: TallTim

Macx licked his lips nervously, pressing the access button on the scratched panel. He hated having to do this, but he had no other choice. Standing in the shade, he paced nervously until the speaker crackled to life with harsh high tones.

“What do you want?”

“I’m the 5 pm appointment.”

“Quantity?”

“Two liters.”

“Stand by.”

The panel light dimmed, and a long echoing rumble came from the bottom of the elevator shaft, faintly issuing from the small vertical crack in the armored elevator door.

So its come to this.

After all the saving and scrimping, moving the family away from the labor camps at the dwindling icecap mines. It was their chance for freedom, maybe make a break for the defended enclaves in South America or India, places where the rain still fell.

That was the whole problem, the world with billions of thirsty mouths, but only few places where pure water made an appearance. Some of the ultra-rich could afford their own aquifer drill rigs – going deep to the very boundary between water-trapping rock and the sediments above, but even that wasn’t a guarantee.

Many had done so and dropped the aquifer levels to mere feet in most places, causing massive erosion and sinkholes when the parched earth gave way. There were entire stretches of land that looked like a moonscape, dotted with wrecked mansions and empty storage tanks.

While the planetary percentage of pure water stayed constant, where it fell made the difference between agonizing death and modest abundance. The Latin Cartel was the first to reach an accord, and build the massive defense barriers around the Amazon rainforest.

Millions stood at the edges in makeshift camps, hoping a stray storm would allow them to fill containers placed at the walls edge. They knew better than to attempt to climb. Automated sentries and patrol drones would make short work of any effort in that direction.

Macx closed his eyes, trying to imagine the last time he had showered in clean water. It was so long ago, a faint memory of being little and looking up – seeing the droplets of pure crystal water fall down towards him, splashing down the drain. What a waste, all of those liters! If he only could open up a portal to that time and scoop up some of that, his family would live like royalty.

The elevator door began to open, massive bolts shuddering aside before revealing a dimly lit car, just barely able to fit two people.

“Inside, quickly”, a speaker from the far wall of the car crackled and went silent.

Macx hurried inside, the elevator doors closing behind him in a swift interlocking motion.

A sudden acceleration downward made Macx gulp involuntarily, like he was being swallowed whole by some mechanical gullet. Going to one of these exchanges was risky, but he had to do it. It was the only way to have enough water to kickstart their home filtration loop, to give them time to plan their escape to the hydrated zones. There was nothing here except desperate miners trying to dig holes to the aquifer, which was receding from their reach day by day. It was madness to think they’d succeed.

The doors opened smoothly, letting cool air wash over him. What luxury, such sweet coolness! Macx stepped nervously into the small room. At one end was a large airlock device to swap items, and a circular grill that let the broker speak through the dense ballistic-proof panels framing the wall.

“Step to the center, in the light.”

Macx shuffled forward, hands at his sides, showing his palms. Sudden moves were not recommended.

Two automated turrets in the corners of the room triangulated his skull with computer-guided precision.

“Submit payment to the slot.”

Macx counted out the last of his savings, and shoved it through the horizontal cut in the panel.

“Stand By – verifying”

A large man in a fitted suit stepped forward from the other side, rapidly counting the bills and shoving them into another slot in the desk.

“Take the two empty jars from the lock and place them in front of the dispenser. You’re in luck, your timing is perfect.”

Two jars were produced, and Macx shifted them in front of two angled pipes sticking out of the wall.

The man turned, and unzipped – golden liquid began to flow into the jars. Some would be stored product mingled with fresher supply. It would be enough after filtering to get the family filtration system going again. Macx tried every trick he could to maximize its efficiency, but after many cycles of drinking and urinating – some still got lost to the dry air.

Once the two jars were topped up, Macx spun on the metal lids and wrapped some flexible tape around the rims. At four pounds or so combined, it was all he could risk carrying in case he had to run. Being ambushed after leaving the upper doors wasn’t uncommon.

“Thanks for your business. Come back again.”

Macx carefully placed the warm jars in his concealed carrying pockets.

So this is what it felt like to be rich.

I knew today would be the end.

Let me explain, and I know I might be covering things that you already know – but please be patient, this is for the people just switching in to this chat.

Everyone I know loves games. The older games, the kind that came on silicon and had to be physically plugged in to a bit of hardware (I know, right? That is insane!) still have a hardcore following even among the most ardent techs that I know.

Yeah, yeah, they don’t have the usual niceness of full audio, smell, taste, and all that – but that was part of their charm. You were looking through this small glass window into another world that was built of brightly glowing blocks of color.

So my friend, Ty, he’s off on one of his longer runs to get some crusty old tech from one of those ancient deposits of plastic and … uh… what was it called… “newspaper”? Yeah, the stuff that had words and non-moving pictures on them. He loves reading them after doing a quick assembly-scan from the fragments he finds.

He says its how he makes his own machine projects more “authentic” by using slang from the ancient aughts.

Whatever, I don’t get into archeology really. This is more about the gaming bit.

So Ty comes back with a dusty backpack full of Satoshi knows what, and I tell him immediately to put the damn thing on the floor because I’m not going to have my SmartCleen(tm) absorbing all those foreign particles. They have enough work to do around my place since I’m always working on sculpture and painting things. (Another topic, but yeah I don’t dig the AI proggies that do it all digitally.)

“But Ci, this is some good stuff!”, he says, rummaging through the many pockets and belted loops.

“Whatever. Just slot something interesting in so we can have a good laugh.”

I wasn’t trying to get into the relative merits of old-school games, I just wanted to see the oddly colored bits and hear the painfully 2-Dimensional music playing.

Ty triumphantly produces a rectangular plastic thing, and shoves it into the receptacle port of my Multi-D display.

Initializing — Please Wait…

That’s odd. Usually the intro menu pops up right away. I get irritated and suspect that Ty is wasting my time with another dud. I’m about to pull the nasty thing from the slot when something new pops up.

Greetings – You have one city left! Try to destroy all incoming enemies! This is your only chance!

I look at Ty and he just shrugs, “It must be one of those older games that were waves of enemies and not much else.”

I’m looking at the screen trying to get a handle on how the letters are formed, they seem to be melting and dripping in some weird way that I’ve never seen before. Not quite old-timey like some effects I’ve seen used in these games, but more slick. Something rising and falling out of the edge of the letters, like it was almost pushing at it like something alive trapped beneath.

I spool out a controller and reposition it in my now-sweaty hands. Something doesn’t feel right here.

Then the sirens started.

Moving to the window we see them high in the sky. The machine-precise weave of white contrails. Drones, thousands of them. They were meant to defend, but now they were screaming in at frightening speeds, vectoring in on MY building.

Ty looks at me and says “Well, better make it count.”

I began to play.

Ceiling lights rocked and swayed with each concussive blast, fine dust raining down from above. Neal compiled the final module, watching the indicator reach 100% in short jerky bursts. This was it then. Sharp notes of ozone drifted from the insulated pylons in the center of the room.

They were on build-up to the final event, driven by Neal’s discoveries and hastily-coded plan. The radius of 100 kilometers should be sufficient, even swallowing the Parkes dish in the process. No trace could be left behind. The math behind the cascade was complex, but the results were simple.

Reed burst back into the room, gun drawn.

“You’re out of time, cowboy. Where is the decode? We need it, NOW!”

Neal stood slowly, one hand positioned near the keyboard.

“Your lies are over. I know everything.”

“The infection will continue to spread unless you have that decode, so stop giving me a bunch of—“

“There IS NO INFECTION!”, Neal shouted, at his limit. “There never WAS one! You roped me into this godforsaken business, and everything you’ve said is complete bullshit!”

“So what if it was? It isn’t about the process, its all about results. You better have some, or you’re going to take a dirtnap.”, Reed’s grip tightened on the pistol.

“Maybe so, but not before I stop you from destroying entire countries.”, Neal punched the < Enter > key, invoking the final countdown.

Reed’s eyes went wide, large red digits displayed on every screen, counting down to oblivion.

“What the hell did you do?”, Reed’s voice crept up a register, dark tendrils of panic taking hold.

“You and other people like you are trying to use this effect to conquer each other, but you don’t understand what you are doing. Like children playing with fire, you’d burn the entire forest just to get at each other.”, Neal took off his glasses and cleaned them as he spoke.

“The first accident created its own microcosm, budded off from this one. The ‘Bootstrap’ protocol, as you came to call it. The signal was sent from the edges of the universe, leaking from what I believe to be black holes, slowly over the eons. The code is nothing less than genesis, the creation of another Brane, if you understand multiverse theory.”

Reed couldn’t believe this. He was losing control, just like the botched drop in the jungle. Rage grew in the pit of his stomach, surging through his limbs.

“You’re not the only one with a plan, you smug bastard. On my say so, this entire base is set to go up like the world’s largest firework — including you. Stop this countdown and help me, dammit!”, Reed’s voice cracked, veins standing out on his neck.

“I am helping. The world, not you.”, Neal sat back down, countdown stopping on zero.

On every screen, the numbers were replaced by a single message – “Bootstrap : Initiated”.

Flying arcs of electric/quantum flux spewed from the pylons, engulfing Neal, and then Reed. Expanding at luminal speeds, the sphere resonated with unworldly harmonics as every node across the world sang with the same deadly song.

Neal had chained them all together, linked through quantum effects and higher dimensions. Each sphere rose into the atmosphere, borders crackling with dark energies and negative discharges. The surface roiled like a soap bubble, diffracted rainbow patterns surging across the surface.

The earth grew a tangled necklace of shining spheres, simultaneously imploding from sight, sun casting shadows from the edges of perfect circles cut into the crust.

At the edge of the Parkes crater, birds began to sing.

A tabbed terminal window began pulsing on screen, highlighting search results. Neal glanced over at the bored soldier on duty near the door. The guard was focused on a small display in the corner of the room, tuned to a cable news channel.

Neal clicked on the tab and reviewed the results. Paydirt. The scanner had found a vulnerable service and exploited it, gaining full access. Scrolling through the directories, he stopped at a recent entry labeled “Parkes”. Expanding the folder, Neal began reading the documents within.

It had all been a lie.

As Neal suspected, the “infection” was the cover story. The truth was even more horrifying, laid out in bullet-pointed paragraphs. A remote station had intercepted a signal and it was decoded, using similar techniques to Neal’s parser. An experiment based on the output had resulted in the complete destruction of their lab, nothing remaining except a 100 kilometer crater scooped out of the Earth’s crust.

A satellite photograph showed a perfect circle cut into the dirt, like a giant ice cream scoop had scraped the surface. The sky above had no clouds. None. Surrounding the crater, there was a secondary larger circle in the atmosphere where wispy cirrus clouds had been neatly bisected at the edges.

Neal looked over at the heavy insulators and coils near the center of the room. They were going to try to recreate this experiment here, but at a much larger scale. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, a white-hot jolt of adrenaline and fear rocketing up his spine.

Reading further, it became obvious that other countries were working on the same kind of device, all focused on eliminating key targets in locations around the globe. This had nothing to do with scientific discovery, it was a race to cripple entire nations.

The Chinese seemed closest, followed closely by the Russians and the Japanese. Neal scrolled further down the document, reading the tactical review and strategy summaries.

The camp they escaped from had been attacked by an outside military. They failed, thank goodness. Neal was sure there were other counter-offensives rippling across the globe, as each country fought to be the first to perfect this terrifying new weapon.

Reading further, multiple references to “Bootstrap” puzzled Neal. Frowning, he did a specific search for the same term. One hit. Clicking to the output, Neal began to read with rising horror. It all made sense now. The only question was, what he was he going to do about it.

---

Bifurcation

A soft ping sounded in Reed’s ear, alerting him to an incoming message. Tapping his comm unit, he silently acknowledged the command. The foot-dragging astronomer was getting ideas. The countermeasures team had detected a network intrusion, origin traced back to Neal’s workstation.

Enough. This had to be stopped, now.

Reed unholstered his sidearm, running down the curved hallway. The base was already evacuating in anticipation of the next bombardment. They were protected under reinforced concrete and layers of soil, but it wouldn’t last forever. Neal had to deliver or they were all doomed.

Slamming open the door, Reed waved off the guard, walking briskly towards Neal, weapon drawn.

“Stop typing. Now. Hands where I can see them.”

Neal slowly put his hands up. Looking at Reed, eyes wide with shock.

“Are you going to shoot me?”

Reed pushed Neal aside, looking at the screen. There was one browser window open to a web search engine, articles listed in blue links.

“You have ten seconds to tell me exactly what you were doing.”, Reed tightened his grip, lowering the sights to Neal’s forehead.

“I was looking for resources to do my job. Did I set off something?”

“Have you figured out the R-Wave?”, Reed snapped.

“I’ve made some progress, but I needed some utilities that I didn’t have here. I’m sorry if I caused any alarm.”

Reed glared at Neal, slowly lowering his gun. No more fooling around. Time to get things in gear.

“Listen and listen good. I need you to give me something more than ‘I am working on it’ in very short order, or your next stop is going to be a hole six feet underground. Get me?”

Neal swallowed and nodded.

“Good. Now get to work, and if you need something – clear it through me first.”, Reed stomped over to the guard pointing back at Neal.

“If he so much as moves in the wrong direction, you have permission to shoot him between the eyes.”

Reed holstered his sidearm and exited into the hallway. Bombardment was incoming, estimated time winding down in precise digits on his watch. He had one more job to do before it all came down. Reed felt like he was back in the jungle, bleeding and alone.

Not this time. Not if he could help it.

Striding down the hall, Reed broke into a run as red lights strobed and sirens began wailing.

The ceiling shook, fine grit cascading from newly formed fissures.

(To be continued.)

Neal hammered on the keyboard, fingers dancing in complex rhythms as he cornered a solution. It was simpler than he thought, the origin signal, that is. Once he partitioned the problem into logical chunks, it all started to unveil itself before his eyes. He had journal-worthy discoveries here, if he were ever allowed to share them.

The din of the diesel engine shifted down a level, as the personnel carrier crested a hill. Reed had barked out “half-click” a short time ago, so they were probably close. Neal closed his eyes and concentrated, letting the visualization he had been working on lock into place in his mind’s eye.

Like most problems, he had been working it from the wrong direction. It was all pretty simple really. Neal had built a parser for the recursively-compressed “R-Wave”, and was ready to execute it. He glanced down at the keychain USB plugged into the main unit below his knees.

Reed hadn’t noticed it was there, and in the low tactical lighting, it would be hard to pick out unless you were right in front of it. Typing a series of commands, Neal backed up his data into the encrypted partition on the USB drive. Old habits die hard, Neal always had viable backups whether they were physical or virtual.

Neal deftly removed the USB drive and buried it deep in his right pocket. Now all he had to do was execute the program. Turning his seat towards the front, Neal thumbed the < Enter > key.

The red lights flickered, and all the displays blanked. In the center of each, a small pixel lit up, edges boiling outward in ragged recursive patterns. It reminded Neal of crystals growing in solution, expanding until it reached the edges of its container. It was beautiful.

Reed rushed to his seat, pointing at the center console display – which also had become a sea of pixels – “See? The damn thing has reached us in here somehow!”

Neal shrugged. He didn’t buy the “infection” story, but playing along seemed to be the safest bet right now.

“How far along were you?”

“I was making progress until the system crashed.”, Neal removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. It had been a grueling session at the terminal, especially under these conditions.

“Keep it fresh in your mind, we’ll have to recreate it in our lab setup.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Neal wondered what paranoid scenario Reed was entertaining now. With countries trying to hack their systems, it was probably only a matter of time before he accused Neal of either stalling on purpose, or working with the enemy. There had to be a way out of this.

The engine noise, a constant bone-jarring undertone to their haphazard escape, wound down to a soft idle. They were at the gates, glaring lights providing sharp contrast to the red-lit shadows inside.

Approval granted, they drove into an access tunnel dotted with high-security lights. Signs reminded of dire consequences if unauthorized access was attempted. Pulling into the depot, the back ramp swung open revealing a complement of soldiers ready to escort them into the base.

Survival

A few twisting corridors and keypad-codes later, Neal and Reed were in the main lab. It was well appointed, equipment of all types lined the wall with a symmetric array of electrical devices near the center. They looked like a hybrid of a Tesla Coil and high-tension insulators. The focal point had a small yellow-taped “X” on the concrete floor.

Neal sat down in front of the large display, stainless steel desk sapping the warmth from his arms as he accessed the command menus.

“I’ll be just a moment, I have something to attend to.”, Reed whispered to the soldier standing guard, who stepped forward with a hand on his sidearm. As Neal expected, Reed wasn’t taking any chances. Reed pushed through the side door into the grey hallway, door closing with a muted click.

“Hey, can I get something to eat and some water? I’m dying over here.”

The guard pressed a button on the intercom, asking for confirmation. It was long enough for Neal to reinsert his USB drive into the central unit below.

Neal not only had his personal work on the drive, but a few useful utilities as well. Invoking a command, he began an exploration of the internal network. It was like trying all the knobs on all the doors in a building at once. There had to be a door he could open and walk through.

Typing in another window to look busy, Neal waited for the search prompt to turn up a result.

---

Reed was under a specific timetable. One that didn’t allow for moody astronomers and foreign agents trying to compromise his mission. It had to be the damn Chinese. They gained a foothold in the network at Parkes, and somehow managed to infect the APC’s systems as well.

Things were going south. Reed had the same feeling he had when he was dangling from the trees in that godforsaken jungle. Exposed and vulnerable. He rested his hand on his sidearm. Solid and comforting. If it were up to him he would have taken all the machines and shot Neal on the spot.

His team were more than capable of handling this, even if it meant recreating a majority of Neal’s work. That man was a liability anyway, with no sense of duty or purpose.

His earpiece squawked, finally able to receive a signal outside the shielded lab.

“Sitrep, advise on the asset.”

Reed considered his response. He didn’t have much to show for his efforts, as the computer Neal was working on crashed on the way over here, wiping out all the data. It was best to rip the bandage off, then offer a solution.

“Asset secured. Decode ongoing, anticipate results promptly. Confident backup team can handle decode.”

The signal bounced through several secured networks, encrypted to a satellite and beamed back to central command. While secure, latency always made conversations an exercise in timing and patience.

“Acknowledged. Burn site and evac in event of failure.”

It was settled then. If Neal couldn’t get things working here, Reed would have to neutralize him and evacuate to their fallback position.

Reed paced down the hallway, mentally running scenarios.

They were running out of time.

(To be continued.)

Neal’s back ached. The console seating was meant for fully deployed troops loaded with gear, not a tired astronomer being carted around the back country like a confused tourist. The workstation window was cluttered with various terminal windows and utility screens.

He had been at this for what seemed like hours. The red tactical lighting was starting to get to him, every time Neal glanced down at his hands he had the distinct impression that they were a bloody mess. It was enough to halt his train of thought and impede his progress.

What Neal had discovered so far, was absolutely counter to everything Agent Reed had said.

The “R-Wave”, as Reed had put it, was a fiendishly recursive and complex encoding scheme. It reminded Neal of cellular automata, simple rules that create amazingly complex results. Neal had built a simple parser, but the details were still elusive. While Reed was busy talking to the driver up front, Neal had quietly inserted his keychain USB drive.

He wasn’t about to hand over his work to Reed, not without a fight. Neal was on the verge of understanding, that annoying itch in his mind he couldn’t help but rub and scratch. Encrypting his results and utilities, Neal closed the terminal windows and leaned back, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes.

Neal had the feeling he had seen this kind of thing before. He just couldn’t place it at the moment.

Reed made his way back to the seat opposite, hunched over in the cramped interior.

“Progress?”

“You know, I’d probably be able to function more effectively if you could tell me more.”, Neal wanted to see how far Reed would go with the infection scare, now that he knew it was a complete lie.

“You’ve been briefed on what I can tell you.”

“Somehow, I doubt that’s the truth.”, Neal surprised himself, but kept going,”What I really want to know is why you’re not giving the the whole picture.”

Reed stared at Neal, like a predator realizing its prey now had claws.

“As I said, the infection is proceeding faster than anticipated. We’re headed to our field station near Red Hill. It was one of the few facilities isolated from the event.”

Neal stared back, frustration boiling in his veins. The absolute gall of this guy. This wasn’t a goddamned infection, and he knew it. Neal wanted to spill everything he had learned, just to put Reed in his place, but he restrained himself. He might learn more at the station.

Neal’s anger ebbed as he forced himself into clinical observer mode. Absorb everything, formulate a plan. That’s the only way you’re getting out of this alive, he reminded himself. Neal’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t had anything to eat for hours. He thought of the vending machine at the office, what he wouldn’t give for a packet of crisps right now.

“We’re just a few clicks out. I suggest you continue working, this thing is taking over – and we need to stop it.”, Reed made his way back to the front, casting a backwards glare. Neal’s time was running out. He’d better get this solved or there may not be much of a future. Sighing, Neal invoked the analyzer and loaded his saved files.

The APC was a custom job, slanted windows with periscope-like attachments pushed out of the way, used when night-vision driving was required. Reed crouched near the driver’s seat, looking at the tactical display on the console. They were less than 2 kilometers away from their objective, and Neal was clearly dragging his feet.

“Give me comms.”, Reed grabbed the mic dangling from the center console. The driver twisted a switch and punched in the frequency for Red Hill Operations.

“Red Hen, Papa Bear, inbound with the package. Advise status.”

Squawk of static and the rumble of the diesel filled the cockpit, red-lit dials and knobs the only light source. Reed cradled the mic, staring out at the dusty road, scrub brush dotting the shoulders.

“Copy that, Papa Bear. Setup Green. Best speed, lights are on.”

“Wilco Red Hen. Out.”, Reed slotted the mic and reviewed the plan.

Red Hill base confirmed they had the apparatus set, now all he needed was a reluctant astronomer to produce the goods. Too bad he didn’t have any immediate family to lean on. This whole operation would have been that much easier.

Reed was getting sick of this transport.

“Best speed, lets put the coals in the fire.”, he clapped his hand on the driver’s shoulder, who grunted and pushed down on the accelerator. The din increased, vibrations rattling Reed to his bones. They didn’t have much time. It was going to be tight as it is.

The red digits on the tactical display whirled down with renewed vigor, as Reed hunch-walked back to his seat. Neal was typing away, brackets and semicolons expressing in logical ciphers a new program to be executed.

That’s the real problem, Reed thought. Abstractions become reality faster than we can realize the implications. He suspected it would only increase as time wore on. Back to the task at hand. Reed checked his sidearm, sliding it slowly out of its holster.

Red highlights glinted off the metal, as Reed checked the chamber and worked the slide. You never know. It might just come down to this, in the end.

Neal kept typing, blissfully unaware of the pistol in Reed’s grip.

Abstractions to reality. Like a bullet in a gun, hammer cocked and ready.

(To be continued.)

Decode

The diesel engine coughed and rumbled as they took a sharp turn, kicking up dust in the headlights. Up ahead, two sentries stood watch at the entrance, portable fencing anchored with large cement blocks.

Reed flashed his ID, guard checking a printed list. They passed, waved on as the following trucks idled behind them. Neal looked in the rear view, as the gates closed. Soldiers were checking each vehicle, probing with flashlights. The sky was beautiful out here, stars wavering in the distance.

A short time later Neal and Reed were hustled into a squat trailer draped with camo-netting. They were afraid of being spotted from the air? Out here? Neal wondered what that was about. There was a tension growing in his mind, the kind of itch that he usually got when trying to solve a difficult problem.

Something didn’t add up here.

Reed gestured for Neal to sit as he opened up his laptop and began typing furiously. The interior was utilitarian and decidedly military. No frills, just textured floor panels and two ugly warts in the ceiling casting off a harsh blue-white light.

A deep thudding sound, then another. Outside, soldiers began running and shouting. Reed dashed to the door, shouting behind him “Stay right there!”. Neal could hear more sounds, like fireworks, small “pop” noises that seemed to be getting closer. Were they under attack? Neal’s mind raced, could he take cover under the table? Would it matter?

Reeds laptop vibrated with the concussions, chattering on the metal surface. Curious, Neal turned the laptop to read the display. The screen was blank save an agency logo in the background. In the lower right corner, an icon was glowing, demanding attention. He may not get another chance. Better risk it, better than cowering under a table.

Neal tapped on the keyboard, glowing icon expanding into a chat window.

R: Confirm cyber on parkes asset?

CC: Confirmed, move asset and perform scrub. Relocate to mobile HQ ASAP.

R: Chinese decode success? Asset in possession, not translated.

CC: Decode not confirmed. Expect further interference. Will advise.

Neal closed the window and turned the laptop back around. This wasn’t good. He assumed “cyber” was short hand for “cyber attack”, clunky government shorthand for external forces attempting to hack his network. They must have been successful, triggering the fire alarms and getting the servers to shut down.

That would put a major spanner into the “infection” narrative. Neal didn’t trust Reed to begin with, but this didn’t help any. If there wasn’t a space-borne organism attacking, then what else was it? Neal suspected a major smokescreen designed to keep him in the dark. Willing and compliant in the face of an unknown enemy.

Or a manufactured one.

Reed rushed back into the room, scooping up the laptop and gesturing to Neal. “Lets go, its getting too hot out here. Time for a change of locale.”

A large armored transport idled outside, back ramp extended. They both ran up the ramp, back hatch closing as the engine roared. Mobile once again. The cramped interior was lit in shades of red, tactical lighting casting a bloody pall across grim faces.

Several seats faced the wall, where various displays and equipment were mounted. Reed sat on the left side, Neal to the opposite on the right. Reed took a headset from the side rack and gestured for Neal to do the same. The whine of the diesel set Neal’s teeth on edge.

Donning the headset, noise-cancelling bliss filled the space between his ears.

“Our timetable has advanced. The infection is more aggressive than we gave it credit for.”, Reed’s voice sounded like they were under water, dampened and compressed.

“So where are we going?”

“Let me worry about that. What I need you to do is take a look at some data we retrieved from your servers before they shut down. The console in front of you has your setup mirrored – at least the tools and local data should work.”, Reed flashed a wry grin.

Neal turned, looking closer at the display. His desktop was here all right, right down to the arrangement of icons. They must have copied it while he was in the conference room back at the observatory. Might as well get started, Neal thought. Its either that or stare at the bulkhead.

Neal opened the file containing the signal. Invoking his analyzer, Neal peered deeply into the waves, oscillating traces filling the screen. There had to be a clue here, something that Neal couldn’t see on the surface. Scrubbing the cursor, Neal relaxed into the flow, letting the answers come.

(To be continued.)

Neal’s office was nearly bare. Desks had been moved and equipment carried out, impressions from the furniture still marking the carpet in perpendicular lines. His workstation was the only connected machine left.

Agent Reed pulled out the chair and motioned for Neal to sit.

“You’ll stop wasting my time and show me the logs.”

Neal swallowed, hesitantly invoking commands to bring up the browsing utility. Scanning the list, Reed stopped and pointed at the file Neal had printed out, hours ago.

“That one has a timestamp that is different from the others. You were studying this entry, weren’t you?”

Damn it all, this guy knew his stuff. Time to half-confess, at least to find out more.

“Yes, I was. I tend to randomly select files to see if the algorithms have missed anything.”

“And you found the R-Wave.”

“The what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mr. Watkins, or should I say doctor Watkins, you know perfectly well what I’m talking about. We don’t have time for this. Right now, teams are spreading out to contain this –“, Reed’s finger stabbed at the monitor, “–infection, whatever it is.”

Neal sat in stunned silence.

“You’d better come up with something better than ‘I don’t know’, or so help me I will throw you into a hole so deep, no one will hear your screams.”, Reed slammed down on the desk with a clenched fist, scattering notes on to the floor.

“Maybe you should tell me what you mean by infection.”, Neal reverted to his soothing voice, the one he used when Directors were fuming about funding and lack of published results. It worked.

Reed placed his laptop on the desk, turning the narrow-field display so Neal could read what was on the screen.

“There. Suffice to say if you breathe a word about this you’ll become ‘missing’ in a heartbeat.”

Leaning forward, Neal began reading.

Field Briefing: R-WAVE

SigOP: TERS-OEC-SIGINT

[Redacted] studying incoming signal from distant group, SATCOMMS [Redacted], main memory began to fail, backup systems inoperative. Attempted downstream command to reset, was given error but retrieved sample of wave. Not full package, as transmission failed and asset began to de-orbit. Monitoring device was frozen, obtained hardcopy before machine crashed in non-recoverable loop.

Recommend containment procedure ASAP, do not load sample on to sensitive equipment or networks. Unknown mechanism of infection, assumed to be some analog to malware or computer type virus. INFECTION VECTOR NOT UNDERSTOOD. Extreme caution is advised.

“So, it crashes computers? Why does that matter?”, Neal sat back in the chair, springs squeaking.

“It matters, because it seems to adapt to whatever environment it finds itself in. It took out an entire base of networked machines. If we hadn’t been isolated for security, it would’ve hopped out to the internet.”

“Then why is my machine still working?”

“This thing is smart, the onset of symptoms varies with efforts made to contain it. When it determines there’s no escape from your network, all of your machines will go down.”

Just then, alarms buzzed and red lights began pulsing. The servers downstairs were being powered down, reaction to the false fire alarm signal lighting up the building.

“Its begun. You’d better come with me.”, Reed grabbed Neal by the arm, lifting him out of his chair. Neal’s screen blanked, then went into random pixel patterns. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Don’t look, we have to get out of here!”, Reed hustled Neal out the door into the cool evening air. Jumping into a large truck, they rolled out of the parking lot towards the main access road.

The silhouette of the building behind them cast in red flashing lights, an angry giant with dark window-framed eyes.

If this was an infectious organism, then Neal had a biohazard stowed in the utility box.

Grimly watching scrub brush disappear in the headlights, Neal wondered if his caution had doomed them all. He had to learn more, this secrecy bullshit was starting to wear at his soul.

“We’re going to a secure facility, we can’t risk contamination scenarios. If you have a cell phone on you, I suggest you turn it in before we arrive.”

Neal produced his phone, glancing at the pixelated display. Hypnotic patterns were dancing at the periphery, like one of those optical illusions that produce movement when you almost look away.

Reed snatched the phone out of his hand and sealed it in a mesh envelope. Faraday cage. Designed to block signals coming in, and out.

Staring out the windshield in silence, they rumbled on the rough backroad towards the horizon, stars blinking in the darkening skies overhead.

(To be continued.)