Chapter 19

Henderson stood behind two technicians as they remotely powered up the Nexus and watched as a list of arcane messages scrolled up their monitors.

"Power established," one of them interpreted. "Self test complete. Boot sequence underway."

"I've got telemetry," his colleague added.

"Communication initiated," the first man stated, "I'm seeing traffic to all outlying nodes."

"Everything okay?" Henderson asked.

"It'll take some time to repopulate the routing tables but we should start receiving surveillance data within the hour."

Henderson watched edgily, anxious to restore the system so that their remote eyes could help them to locate the insurgent group that had destroyed the Infiltrator. The fire had left little to salvage other than her Datacore. He fervently hoped that after murdering her, they'd not realized what she was.

"I'm starting to lose connectivity with several leaf nodes on the edge of the network," one of the technicians advised. "I'm going to reset them remotely."

An hour later, the network was still stubbornly uncooperative and Henderson began to worry. The technicians ran a diagnostic but even after broadcasting a system wide restart, they still hadn't achieved any measure of success. Henderson picked up his phone and summoned Natalie to assist.

"The processors are all tied up," Natalie said, ten minutes after joining them as she examined a diagnostic screen. "Their performance stats are off the chart; they're just not doing what they're supposed to be doing."

"We've done a remote reboot," a technician replied.

"That doesn't always work," she told him. "We're going to have to send someone out to sequence the power manually."

"How long will that take?" Henderson asked.

"Twenty minutes to isolate then restore the supply."

"What else can we do?"

"I'm uploading the Nexus's firmware. Maybe it got corrupted somehow when the substation blew."

"Whatever you do, do it quickly. The CEO's already breathing down my neck."

Greg and Valerie had not even bothered to dress until midday. They lounged around in Valerie's apartment, watching the tank and waiting in the vain hope that Emily would get in contact.

The tank was halfway through a classic movie when the image froze then flicked to that of a newsreader.

"We interrupt the movie to bring you breaking news surrounding the arrest of Vice-President Weaver on charges of corruption and tax evasion."

The screen broke to scenes of a bearded man being led in handcuffs away from his luxurious home. Camera crews pushed microphones into his face, demanding comment but the only replies came from a weasel-faced lawyer that accompanied the arresting officers.

"My client has no comment to make at this time," he droned repeatedly.

"Weaver was the one guy I liked," Greg opined. "If he's corrupt then we're really headed up the river without a paddle."

"Your political system does seem to leave a lot to be desired," Valerie observed.

"The whole system stinks. The politicians accept money from the corporations to limit legislation of their operations and reserve a place for them on the board for when they leave office."

"Why don't you change things?"

"There's nobody with enough integrity to resist temptation or the will to reign in the excesses of the corporations."

"Surely something has to be done."

"I can't see it happening in my lifetime," Greg admitted glumly.

Natalie stared at the core dump from the Nexus and reached a decision.

"The power down created a glitch that corrupted the firmware in the Nexus which in turn caused it to route faulty packets around the network and induce buffer overflows in every node. The remote resets aren't being properly propagated so you have no option but to reset them all manually."

"What? Do you know how big a job that will be?" Henderson exclaimed.

"You'll have to shut them all down then power them up in sequence otherwise you'll just end up back in the same situation all over again."

Henderson bellowed in frustration then turned around when Hodges strode purposefully into the room. The recently appointed Security Director led him to the production area where Howard Jackson was reviewing Beverly's Datacore. He watched the start of the meeting and saw Emily receive the command override and her instructions to kill Janus. The girl strode off to perform her task, grabbed the terrorist's pistol but then turned and fired at Beverly. The image flickered and distorted as the Infiltrator lost power then failed completely.

"What the... ?" Henderson gasped. "What just happened?"

"That bitch Emily turned traitor. That's what happened," Hodges snarled.

"That can't happen. There are safeguards, aren't there Jackson?"

"The Hybrids are the most sophisticated model we've constructed so far," Jackson replied. "We have high confidence in their reliability but I don't need to remind you that only Valerie has spent any significant amount of time outside of the Facility."

"Are you telling me that they're potentially flawed?"

"They were all rushed into full deployment. Emily has always exhibited contradictory characteristics compared to the other five."

"You mean she's as nutty as a fruitcake?"

"She's repeatedly demonstrated a unique perspective on the perception of her environment. It's possible that, combined with the stressful situation that you've subjected her to, she may have chosen to reinterpret her objectives."

"She cracked under the strain," Hodges simplified.

"I think that would be a very probable explanation."

"What about her command codes?" Henderson demanded. "They're like an imperative order aren't they? We could tell her to shoot herself and she'd do it."

"Normally yes but the Hybrids have full control over their own firmware. It's unlikely but not theoretically impossible for them to purge the imperative subroutines or even the command codes themselves given a mind to do so."

"Bloody marvellous," Henderson groaned.

"We don't know if that's what happened," Jackson replied calmly. "It could be a temporary malfunction from when she was shot. Given time, her true personality may reinstate itself and she'll come back to us."

"If she comes back here, I'll reformat the bitch myself," Henderson snapped.

Emily stood facing one of Huxley's team, a man called Bartlett who was a specialist in hand-to-hand combat. They were both dressed in baggy coveralls and sweating from their exertions as they sparred on the training mat. A ring of onlookers observed with interest as Bartlett explained how to predict their opponent's moves by taking clues from facial expression and body language.

Anxious not to attract too much attention, Emily was allowing herself to be floored repeatedly. She forced obvious mistakes and Bartlett ruthlessly took advantage of them and sent her tumbling time after time. The session provided invaluable training to the raw recruits, Emily decided, and could possibly save their lives in the long term.

"Well done Emily," Bartlett commended. "You're showing great potential. If the others show half the determination then we'll give Syntel's goons something to think about when the time comes."

They performed an elaborate bow to one another before the instructor selected a new victim to torment.

"I think you're enjoying this," Janus told Emily as he intercepted her walking over to get changed.

He followed her into the changing room and watched as she stripped naked then walked under a makeshift shower. Cleaned and dried, she dressed in a crisp new tunic. Huxley had felt that a uniform would assist them in feeling part of a cohesive fighting force.

"We might yet have a chance," Emily replied. "Huxley is good and his men are well trained."

"They were with special forces until two years ago when they decided to go freelance."

"Why did they do that?"

"If you saw what the army pays, you wouldn't need to ask that question?"

"Money then?"

"That and not having to take orders from some jackass straight out of officer training college who doesn't know his arse from his elbow."

"I think I get the picture," Emily laughed.

"There's something I need to ask you."

"Sure."

"How come you're not still working for Syntel, instead of here with us planning to overthrow the government?"

"Let's just say that they've done several things to piss me off lately. They've lied to me about everything and I've come to realize that I don't have to do what they tell me any more. They are doing so many things that I disagree with and they have ultimate power over some good friends of mine. They have to be stopped whatever the cost."

"That's good enough for me. Everybody thinks highly of you and well ... you know what I feel."

"Tell me anyway."

"That night at the Nexus compound," Janus recounted. "I saw that guy shoot you and I just lost it. I'd never shot anybody before but I'd do it again without a second thought. Huxley had to physically drag me through that fence or I'd have run over and carried you out of there."

"Janus, that's so sweet."

"I like you, Emily. I really do. I want..."

"What?"

"I want you to be my second-in-command."

"You do?" she sighed, slightly disappointed. "What about Huxley?

"He's my partner in crime. I set the objectives and leave him in charge of making all the military decisions. I'm the voice that the people will hear when they learn what we're trying to achieve here."

"You're going public?"

"Absolutely."

"About the machines?"

"Why not? It's abominable."

Emily heart lurched.

"Janus. I accept your offer but I want to make one request."

"Name it."

"Keep the information about the machines under wraps for the time being."

"Why? It a great piece of negative publicity. People will be up in arms."

"Please Janus. Just do this one thing for me. I have my reasons."

Janus thought then nodded.

"Okay, just for now. Can you tell me what these reasons are?"

"I have friends in Syntel and their lives would be put at risk if news of all this leaked out. As soon as I know they're safe, you can reveal whatever you like."

Janus put his arms around her and hugged her, unable yet to acknowledge the depth of feelings that he was developing for her.

Three days had passed and everybody kept well out of the CEO's path. Simmonds continually ranted about the time it was taking to restore the Grid to operation and they were still no nearer to achieving it than that they were at the start.

It had taken an immense amount of manpower to manually disconnect each node and reconnect them as Natalie had instructed. The system remained stubbornly locked solid. Nothing that they tried seemed to make a shred of difference.

Natalie had worked for two days without sleep to find a workaround but even her best efforts appeared to be in vain. Jackson checked up on her with the ultimate goal of persuading her to take a break. She was busy linking a spare surveillance node into the network and watching how it responded on a Quantum data analyzer that sat on the bench beside her.

"Any luck Natalie?"

"Hi Howard," she replied, smiling at him affectionately.

All the Hybrids saw the man as a grown daughter might look upon an ageing father; deep affection coupled with a certain degree of tolerance.

"I've just taken a new unit out of stores and attached it to the Grid. It's stopped working and demonstrated the same fault as all the others."

"Hmm," he replied thoughtfully. "And your conclusion is?"

"I'm not sure," she said hesitantly.

"Have you considered the possibility of a virus?"

Her look of dismay told him that she probably hadn't. He felt a little smug that he could still teach them something occasionally.

"I'll get Henderson to request a full analysis of the code corruption in the Nexus."

"No," she countered sharply. "I mean that won't be necessary."

"Natalie," he replied affectionately. "Tell me what you're thinking."

She looked at him and thought for several seconds before replying.

"It is a virus," she explained. "It was activated the instant we powered up the Nexus. It spread to every single node and they're continually re-infecting each other and any other new nodes that we add."

"How do we get rid of it?"

"Isolate every node from the network, reformat them and then bring each one back online. If just one infected node is missed, the virus will establish itself again and we'll be right back to square one."

"How long have you known this?"

"Since I saw the core dump on the first day."

"And you've kept quiet about it?"

Natalie looked uncomfortable. She pressed several keys on the keyboard and her screen filled with the hieroglyphics of computer code.

"This is the body of the virus," she stated.

"It seems quite small. What can it tell us about who wrote it?"

"The last hundred bytes seemed total garbage until I viewed it in a text window," she said, pressing another key and displaying several sentences of prose.

"That looks like..." Jackson started.

"It's poetry. Edward Grant. The virus was written by Emily."

Jackson dropped into a chair as the truth of the Hybrid's complicity in compromising the Grid stared him in the face.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he whispered, his heart pumping violently.

"For all her faults, she's still my sister. She must have her reasons. I won't help you repair it."

Natalie's frank statement coming so soon after the discovery of Emily's actions left Jackson in total shock.

"I could order you," he croaked. "I could use your command codes."

"You do what you must." Natalie shrugged.

He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"I'd never do that to you Natalie."

"I know," she replied softly, "I wouldn't have told you otherwise."

"The technicians are going to figure out that it's a virus," Howard informed her. "They'll do what you said and they'll bring the Grid back up eventually."

"They probably will," Natalie replied fatalistically. "But it will take weeks to organize and implement and like I said, it would only take one infected node to introduce the virus back into the system."

"I can guarantee you they'll be very thorough," Jackson told her. "They won't miss a single node."

"Not the ones they know about," she replied, glancing at the infected node on her workbench.

"Natalie," Jackson gasped.

"The Grid stays down," she stated defiantly.

Natalie sat quietly in their recreation room, brooding as she reviewed her act of defiance. Elisabeth entered the room, having just finished her patrol and looked inquisitively in her direction.

"What's eating you?"

"I need to get out of here," Natalie sighed. "I feel as though the walls are closing in all around me."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Into the city. Anywhere but here."

"Do you want some company?"

"The more the merrier."

"Let's get changed then. I'll sequester some transport."

Natalie returned to her room and opened her wardrobe, inspecting the few garments that hung from the internal rail. A figure-hugging black dress, a gift from one of the female technicians, was the only item that attracted her attention, not that she'd had any opportunity to wear it. She extracted it, still on its hanger, and held it up to the light, imagining how she'd look with it wrapped around her slender frame. Before she had time to change her mind, she stripped then held it against her body, viewing her reflection in a tall mirror.

Minutes later, she'd donned fresh underwear then slipped the dress on, feeling the satiny material clinging against her flesh like a second skin. Smiling ecstatically, she added a pair of matching court shoes to complete her ensemble and set off in search of her ride.

Elisabeth had changed from one shapeless outfit into another less soiled than its predecessor. Her look of astonishment at the change in her companion's appearance spoke volumes about its radical nature.

"What the smoke?"

"A girl sometimes has to make an effort," Natalie quipped as she strode along the corridor towards the elevators. Elisabeth hurried to catch up, refraining from comment on Natalie's décolletage.

An SUV was fuelled and ready within the underground garage. Minutes later, with Elisabeth at the wheel, they were driving past the security station and down the steep incline of the Facility's access road.

"This is most unlike you Natalie," Elisabeth observed, eager to discover the reasons behind her fellow Hybrid's transformation.

"Just drive. I need to escape that infernal prison."

"You're not missing much out here. Ten hours cooped up with two dumb HKs and an Infiltrator would soon have you clamouring for the sanctuary of your workshop."

"Maybe, but for now, the further away I am the better."

"What's brought this on all of a sudden? I thought you liked being surrounded by tech and playing with your shiny toys."

"Maybe I need a change of scenery for a little while."

"Whatever. Where do want to go?"