Part Thirteen: Sit and listen, sit and listen.
She poured herself another glass of Yalumba Viognier as he explained why the HDMI port was inevitably going to change in both design and function.
"Let me stop you there," she said, "Because, if I don't, this is going to turn really nasty very quickly."
He glanced at what was now a bottle three quarters empty.
"Okay. Sure. What's up?"
"Two things. And I'm being kind by ignoring most of what you've said in the last ten minutes. Firstly, I genuinely believe that you're onto something, vis-a-vis the corporate machinations of players in the field of artificial intelligence, and where all that might be leading in the next three decades."
"Wow. You were listening."
"I was. You should never have doubted that. Secondly, I think you need an audience more than you need a doomed date sanctioned by flawed algorithms."
He blushed, caught out and involuntarily captioned.
"Y'know, I was going to start a blog, but I've been down that road before and it all just...turned to shit. Twitter was worse. Much worse. You have no idea..."
She held up a hand.
"I have every idea. That's kind of my thing. And I read your blog, all seventy five entries. Your Twitter posts seemed to be cries for help that got covered in crap, so I gave up on them."
"Very wise," he said, topping up his own glass. "I think I lost that one as soon as my workmates found it. But listen, I'm really flattered that..."
"Shut up," she said, "And listen. To me. There's a hole in the fabric of conspiratorial theoretical subjugation. It's massive, and no geek worth his salt has been able to fill it. Until now."
She leaned in, her auburn tresses splaying as she did so.
"I need you to believe in yourself. Right here, right now. There's a message that you need to get out, and it's one that you can definitely deliver because, ultimately, it's true."
He stared at her, entranced but confused.
"You're on," he said, "But I feel it's only fair to warn you that no one seems to be listening these days."
She smiled at him, amused by his apparent naivete.
"The underestimation of man is a cause to believe in."
"Voltaire?"
She laughed, slapping the table between them.
"And this is why I could love you, if circumstance weren't so arbitrary. No, not Voltaire, although you should read his treatise on dogs if you ever get the chance. He deigns to consider them an unnecessary evil, but we should remember that he lost a close friend to rabies."
"Is that true?"
"Truth is a flexible perception based upon need, so yes, it's as true as you need it to be."
He stared at her, astonished.
"You don't care, do you? History is just a mix and match philosophy for you."
She shrugged.
"Something along those lines, yes. But the broken reality is all we've got sometimes, so I need you to remember this, and to post about it tomorrow. Phylos Cade is dead. Peregrine Conway is alive. Ownership never represents control, and darkness subsumes the lawmakers. Think you can remember all that?"
He retrieved his Moleskine notebook from his pocket and rescued a pen from his courier bag.
"Forgive me if I'm a bit oldschool on this," he said, writing everything she'd said down. "Help me out with the spelling?"
Omni grinned.
"Whatever it takes is fine with me,"
To be continued...
Tuesday, 27 September 2016
Monday, 12 September 2016
Tempus Clausuris (12)
Part Twelve: Love don't pay no bills.
"Gary's bike's gone," said Hans, getting into the back of the Citroen with Bernie. "So we can add theft to Omni's personal list of misdemeanours." Sasha checked his pissed-off expression in the rear-view mirror and started the car.
"Noted," she said. "Now give Gary's laptop to Mister Taylor, and let's hope that the trail hasn't gone cold."
"Which trail?" asked David Cutter, studying the C1's dashboard instrumentation. In truth, he'd been considering getting the same Citroen himself to replace his Ford Focus.
"Actually, that's a good question," said Bernie, watching the laptop boot up. "Password?" he asked Hans, who gritted his teeth and typed it in for him. "Thanks. What I mean is, we know which train Sara Ryland was on, and I uploaded the Wi-Fi access data to the servers."
"Which may be compromised, if Gary was right about the Zero Day exploit, and if it's been triggered," added Hans.
Sasha Marx reached a decision.
"Too many ifs. Boys?" she said, "Swap laptops. Now. Hans, see how far Gary got with the exposure of AktionHive's AV project. Bernie? I need you to determine, if you can, what Sara's stepping-off point might be. Cade is central to all this, we just haven't found the connection yet, so factor that in."
"Got it," said Bernie, handing Gary's laptop to Hans.
"Don't mess with my files," warned Hans, handing his own laptop to Bernie.
Cutter turned to Sasha, looking amused.
"Kids, eh?"
Sasha kept her eyes on the road, heading for the A1 exit.
"You're not off the hook, Mister Cutter. I had to call a doctor to help my friend. Not your fault, I know, but Gary's last words to Hans were about your company and the AV, and that's got me really puzzled."
David Cutter sighed.
"Well, a lot of it's above my pay grade, and taking on two paid interns was never my idea, but Conway sees the Advanced Virtualisation deal as crucial to how AktionHive functions in the next decade."
"Conway? Peregrine Conway?" asked Sasha.
"Yeah," said Cutter, "He took over as CEO a couple of months ago. We're not listed, so it was no big deal. No shareholders to mollify, and the board couldn't believe their luck. Er, am I missing something here?"
Three brains in the car were working overtime, but it was Bernie Taylor who spoke up first.
"I never want the fact that I knew about this, and never bothered to do anything with the information to be held against me. If it's above David's pay grade, you can safely bet it's above mine."
"Nice cop out," said Hans.
"Thanks," said Bernie, "But I've got data, and we should all be grateful that Sara Ryland uses a Mac. Also, my subscription to Shodan finally paid off." He turned the laptop to show Hans.
"Impressive," said Hans.
"Explain," said Sasha.
"It's a search engine," said Hans, "But so much more. The internet of things? This is where it is. And that's a very big red dot." Bernie inclined his head, accepting the sideways compliment.
Sasha pulled her E-Cig out of her pocket and hit the button, inhaling deeply.
"Do we have a precise destination?" she asked.
Bernie was checking the property ownership register, and cross-checking with Hans' own findings.
"We do," said Bernie, scribbling down the address and handing it to Sasha.
"Confirmed," said Hans, "And the remote access codes are encrypted, but not for long."
He and Bernie allowed themselves a high five. David Cutter looked more than lost.
"I don't even know how you guys are getting Wi-Fi in here." Sasha came to his rescue - sort of.
"I take it that you've never met Perry Conway?"
"No," said Cutter, "He was in the building once, but I was porting the kids to their new school. Emily was having a bad day."
"Well," said Sasha, "Here's the thing. I have. And suddenly, everything makes sense. You should gen up on Cicero, David. The traitor within. Whatever you think you've gained with Peregrine Conway as CEO, you've lost with Phylos Cade as the supreme infiltrator."
Hans nodded.
"A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. A nod to you, Mister Cutter. But it cannot survive treason from within. Sly whispers rustling through all the alleys. My God, it's beyond the text of the book!"
"Textbook," offered Bernie. Hans inclined his head, mimicking Bernie's previous gesture. They were really getting along now. Sasha, however, looked worried.
"We're still missing a link. I'm probably being generous - several links. Can you connect Sara Ryland and Phylos Cade?"
"Not yet," sighed Bernie Taylor. "But it's just a matter of time."
"Well," said Sasha, changing gears and heading down the A1, "Let's hope that's not against us."
To be continued...
"Gary's bike's gone," said Hans, getting into the back of the Citroen with Bernie. "So we can add theft to Omni's personal list of misdemeanours." Sasha checked his pissed-off expression in the rear-view mirror and started the car.
"Noted," she said. "Now give Gary's laptop to Mister Taylor, and let's hope that the trail hasn't gone cold."
"Which trail?" asked David Cutter, studying the C1's dashboard instrumentation. In truth, he'd been considering getting the same Citroen himself to replace his Ford Focus.
"Actually, that's a good question," said Bernie, watching the laptop boot up. "Password?" he asked Hans, who gritted his teeth and typed it in for him. "Thanks. What I mean is, we know which train Sara Ryland was on, and I uploaded the Wi-Fi access data to the servers."
"Which may be compromised, if Gary was right about the Zero Day exploit, and if it's been triggered," added Hans.
Sasha Marx reached a decision.
"Too many ifs. Boys?" she said, "Swap laptops. Now. Hans, see how far Gary got with the exposure of AktionHive's AV project. Bernie? I need you to determine, if you can, what Sara's stepping-off point might be. Cade is central to all this, we just haven't found the connection yet, so factor that in."
"Got it," said Bernie, handing Gary's laptop to Hans.
"Don't mess with my files," warned Hans, handing his own laptop to Bernie.
Cutter turned to Sasha, looking amused.
"Kids, eh?"
Sasha kept her eyes on the road, heading for the A1 exit.
"You're not off the hook, Mister Cutter. I had to call a doctor to help my friend. Not your fault, I know, but Gary's last words to Hans were about your company and the AV, and that's got me really puzzled."
David Cutter sighed.
"Well, a lot of it's above my pay grade, and taking on two paid interns was never my idea, but Conway sees the Advanced Virtualisation deal as crucial to how AktionHive functions in the next decade."
"Conway? Peregrine Conway?" asked Sasha.
"Yeah," said Cutter, "He took over as CEO a couple of months ago. We're not listed, so it was no big deal. No shareholders to mollify, and the board couldn't believe their luck. Er, am I missing something here?"
Three brains in the car were working overtime, but it was Bernie Taylor who spoke up first.
"I never want the fact that I knew about this, and never bothered to do anything with the information to be held against me. If it's above David's pay grade, you can safely bet it's above mine."
"Nice cop out," said Hans.
"Thanks," said Bernie, "But I've got data, and we should all be grateful that Sara Ryland uses a Mac. Also, my subscription to Shodan finally paid off." He turned the laptop to show Hans.
"Impressive," said Hans.
"Explain," said Sasha.
"It's a search engine," said Hans, "But so much more. The internet of things? This is where it is. And that's a very big red dot." Bernie inclined his head, accepting the sideways compliment.
Sasha pulled her E-Cig out of her pocket and hit the button, inhaling deeply.
"Do we have a precise destination?" she asked.
Bernie was checking the property ownership register, and cross-checking with Hans' own findings.
"We do," said Bernie, scribbling down the address and handing it to Sasha.
"Confirmed," said Hans, "And the remote access codes are encrypted, but not for long."
He and Bernie allowed themselves a high five. David Cutter looked more than lost.
"I don't even know how you guys are getting Wi-Fi in here." Sasha came to his rescue - sort of.
"I take it that you've never met Perry Conway?"
"No," said Cutter, "He was in the building once, but I was porting the kids to their new school. Emily was having a bad day."
"Well," said Sasha, "Here's the thing. I have. And suddenly, everything makes sense. You should gen up on Cicero, David. The traitor within. Whatever you think you've gained with Peregrine Conway as CEO, you've lost with Phylos Cade as the supreme infiltrator."
Hans nodded.
"A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. A nod to you, Mister Cutter. But it cannot survive treason from within. Sly whispers rustling through all the alleys. My God, it's beyond the text of the book!"
"Textbook," offered Bernie. Hans inclined his head, mimicking Bernie's previous gesture. They were really getting along now. Sasha, however, looked worried.
"We're still missing a link. I'm probably being generous - several links. Can you connect Sara Ryland and Phylos Cade?"
"Not yet," sighed Bernie Taylor. "But it's just a matter of time."
"Well," said Sasha, changing gears and heading down the A1, "Let's hope that's not against us."
To be continued...
Saturday, 3 September 2016
Tempus Clausuris (11)
Part Eleven: I'm under your curse now, but I call it compromise.
Sasha Marx got off the 'phone to her tame doctor, and helped Hans move Gary onto the sofa.
"Jarrett's on his way. Whatever she plugged him with, he should be able to fix it."
Hans nodded, patting his babbling friend on the shoulder.
"I'll unplug the laptops. We'll probably need them."
"Zero Day..." said Gary, staring up at him.
"What?"
"Cade's...into the servers. Check the logs. Massive exploit. AktionHive...it's all about...the AV."
Sasha and Hans exchanged a look as Gary passed out again.
"Handy that we've still got their CTO with us, then." She went into her bedroom and came back with a set of car keys. Hans raised an eyebrow.
"The Citroen?"
"Comfort over situational austerity. Besides," she smiled at him, "Technically, I've still got it on trial. You and Bernie go in the back, try to figure out what the Hell Gary's uncovered." Hans nodded again, but looked uncomfortable. "He'll be okay, you know? Jarrett's had plenty of experience with this sort of thing."
"I know," said Hans, "But I'm having trouble believing that Omni could've done this."
Sasha helped him unplug the laptops and bag them up.
"Funny story," she said, poking the last of the leads into the bag, "About six months ago I had a meeting with a Mister Fisher from the Home Office. I say a meeting, but it was a lot less formal than that. More like..." she paused to consider her words carefully. "An encounter. Accidental, coincidental, highly convenient. No one likes to feel played, Hans, least of all me, but when the game's got more than two sides you have to question the nature of loyalty. In every possible context."
Hans stared at her.
"You've got immunity?"
"Not from the everyday flotsam and jetsam of random happenstance, no, but our little North Korean former friend is part of something much bigger which, thanks to thirty meaningful seconds spent with her smartphone, I can now call upon in a time of need. I'd call this a time of need, wouldn't you?"
Hans zipped-up the bags and threw them over his shoulder.
"Words often fail me, Miss Marx, particularly in your company but, whatever your standing as a...funky asset of the SIS, I'm relieved that we are on the same side."
Sasha laughed.
"Everything brings me back to Tacitus, Hans. It's an optimisation of futility, and my feminist soul rails against it, given Omni's betrayal, but I can't help feeling we're headed for something ultimately fulfilling. Just remember, a bad peace is even worse than war."
David Cutter finished his text, hit 'send' and switched off his mobile. Bernie Taylor, sitting opposite him in the back of the van, raised an eyebrow.
"Explaining myself to my wife," said Cutter, "Has become one of those...acquired arts. What about you? Haven't you got someone who should know where you are?"
"I could write a list, but it'd be very short," replied Bernie. "Frankly, Mister Cutter,"
"David. For Christ's sake, don't fall into that formality bullshit when it's just us."
Bernie shrugged.
"Frankly, David, I'd be a lot happier if the people I know never find out about this crazy shit. Ever. I'm having the weirdest forty eight hours I've ever known, and the comfort of strangers is definitely a complete myth."
Cutter nodded. Then re-considered.
"It's kind of exciting though, isn't it?"
"Totally."
They shared a laugh before the van doors were unlocked and opened. Sasha Marx beamed at them.
"Okay, guys. Consider this an upgrade - we're changing vehicles."
"About time, too," said Cutter, climbing out and blinking in the sunshine. Then he saw Hans holding two laptop bags. "Oh, great. The gang's all here."
"Relax," smiled Sasha, "You're riding shotgun with me," She pointed at the metallic grey Citroen C1 further up the street. "We can have a lovely chat about what AV means to AktionHive, and why Phylos Cade might want to have a backdoor into it."
To be continued...
Sasha Marx got off the 'phone to her tame doctor, and helped Hans move Gary onto the sofa.
"Jarrett's on his way. Whatever she plugged him with, he should be able to fix it."
Hans nodded, patting his babbling friend on the shoulder.
"I'll unplug the laptops. We'll probably need them."
"Zero Day..." said Gary, staring up at him.
"What?"
"Cade's...into the servers. Check the logs. Massive exploit. AktionHive...it's all about...the AV."
Sasha and Hans exchanged a look as Gary passed out again.
"Handy that we've still got their CTO with us, then." She went into her bedroom and came back with a set of car keys. Hans raised an eyebrow.
"The Citroen?"
"Comfort over situational austerity. Besides," she smiled at him, "Technically, I've still got it on trial. You and Bernie go in the back, try to figure out what the Hell Gary's uncovered." Hans nodded again, but looked uncomfortable. "He'll be okay, you know? Jarrett's had plenty of experience with this sort of thing."
"I know," said Hans, "But I'm having trouble believing that Omni could've done this."
Sasha helped him unplug the laptops and bag them up.
"Funny story," she said, poking the last of the leads into the bag, "About six months ago I had a meeting with a Mister Fisher from the Home Office. I say a meeting, but it was a lot less formal than that. More like..." she paused to consider her words carefully. "An encounter. Accidental, coincidental, highly convenient. No one likes to feel played, Hans, least of all me, but when the game's got more than two sides you have to question the nature of loyalty. In every possible context."
Hans stared at her.
"You've got immunity?"
"Not from the everyday flotsam and jetsam of random happenstance, no, but our little North Korean former friend is part of something much bigger which, thanks to thirty meaningful seconds spent with her smartphone, I can now call upon in a time of need. I'd call this a time of need, wouldn't you?"
Hans zipped-up the bags and threw them over his shoulder.
"Words often fail me, Miss Marx, particularly in your company but, whatever your standing as a...funky asset of the SIS, I'm relieved that we are on the same side."
Sasha laughed.
"Everything brings me back to Tacitus, Hans. It's an optimisation of futility, and my feminist soul rails against it, given Omni's betrayal, but I can't help feeling we're headed for something ultimately fulfilling. Just remember, a bad peace is even worse than war."
David Cutter finished his text, hit 'send' and switched off his mobile. Bernie Taylor, sitting opposite him in the back of the van, raised an eyebrow.
"Explaining myself to my wife," said Cutter, "Has become one of those...acquired arts. What about you? Haven't you got someone who should know where you are?"
"I could write a list, but it'd be very short," replied Bernie. "Frankly, Mister Cutter,"
"David. For Christ's sake, don't fall into that formality bullshit when it's just us."
Bernie shrugged.
"Frankly, David, I'd be a lot happier if the people I know never find out about this crazy shit. Ever. I'm having the weirdest forty eight hours I've ever known, and the comfort of strangers is definitely a complete myth."
Cutter nodded. Then re-considered.
"It's kind of exciting though, isn't it?"
"Totally."
They shared a laugh before the van doors were unlocked and opened. Sasha Marx beamed at them.
"Okay, guys. Consider this an upgrade - we're changing vehicles."
"About time, too," said Cutter, climbing out and blinking in the sunshine. Then he saw Hans holding two laptop bags. "Oh, great. The gang's all here."
"Relax," smiled Sasha, "You're riding shotgun with me," She pointed at the metallic grey Citroen C1 further up the street. "We can have a lovely chat about what AV means to AktionHive, and why Phylos Cade might want to have a backdoor into it."
To be continued...
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