Terminal Connection (9 page)

V
innie couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Over the last thirty minutes he had watched with morbid curiosity as Steve and Allison scrutinized the logs.

He replayed the audio of Camille and listened as the events unfolded. Syzygy had attempted to rape and then killed Camille Anderson. Rape was a crime about control and anger. There was none of that here, just cold detachment. Syzygy used methodical and mechanical methods. The perp did not seem to seek pleasure from the attack either. Why had he chosen this girl? Vinnie shook his head. He needed help.

“Computer, DSM9 please.” DSM9 stood for the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders IX developed by the American Psychiatric Association. It identified and cataloged 95% of known mental and psychological illness.

“DSM9 online,” the computer responded.

“I need to profile a killer,” Vinnie said.

“What is the subject’s name?”

“I don’t have a name—just an alias, Syzygy.”

“Do you have an image of him, his physical appearance in VR?”

“Yes. Computer, pull up Syzygy Image One.”

The image that Steve and Allison viewed appeared before Vinnie.

“Computer, I also have some clips of dialog from the subject stored in Syzygy Sound File One,” Vinnie said.

“Applying Luscher’s alias test. This will take a few seconds.” The computer examined Syzygy’s alias and voiceprint.

How people painted themselves in VR spoke volumes about that person’s perceptions. It was like a barometer of their personality. Vinnie walked around the figure. He looked into the eyes of this man. They were dark, glazed, and distant.

The computer spoke. “Syzygy displays symptoms of the Antisocial Personality Disorder, also known as Sociopath Personality and Psychopathic Personality.

“Although people with this disorder may appear superficially charming, they are incapable of significant loyalty to individuals, groups, or social values. They are grossly selfish, callous, irresponsible, and impulsive. Unable to feel guilt, they cannot learn from experience or from punishment.

“Frustration tolerance is extremely low. They tend to blame others or offer plausible rationalizations for their behavior. When frustrated, they may be dangerous to others, since internalized brakes do not exist.

“This subject falls into a subcategory of Periodic Mechanical. These individuals chronically focus on one particular goal, often through ritualized patterns or methods. During these episodes, their entire intellect collapses around a single idea or central theme. They become very meticulous and calculating in their methods. They are often devoid of emotion, although they might appear charming in order to attain their goal. Prone to extreme violence, they have no remorse for their actions.”

“Computer, is there anything about what he would look like in real life, his habits, his history?”

“We can infer some things about his childhood.” Before Vinnie a wall of water appeared, black letters protruding:

Childhood Behaviors/Events Match

Animal Cruelty 98%

Pyromania 96%

Persistent Bed Wetting 93%

Domestic Violence 90%

Broken Home 81%

Parental Alcoholism 72%

Impoverished 67%

Vinnie scanned the list. “Computer, make a copy of this and the entry from the DSM9.”

A pamphlet materialized in Vinnie’s hand.

“Any ideas on what he would be or look like now? I mean outside of VR.”

“Some facts can be extrapolated. The key here is that he has suppressed almost all of his emotions. Most people know that they cannot think a feeling or feel a thought. Syzygy thinks he can think his feelings. Because of it, he is extremely out of touch with his emotions and probably his body as well. He’ll appear bland, cold, aloof, possibly pale, lanky or perhaps extremely obese. It’s similar to that news clip last week where a quiet, straightA high school student attacked and murdered his teacher after receiving a B+ on a midterm: emotionally retarded, mentally gifted.”

The implications hit Vinnie. This Nexus problem was much more serious than he had thought. His
friends
had changed tactics. He now faced a serial killer and perhaps the first
virtual
serial killer at that. To top it off, Allison was running around doing god knows what. He needed to think; he needed a smoke. But he couldn’t do that in here. Pressing a button on his left wrist, he exited VR.

Vinnie shifted in his living room chair and lit up a Marlboro. He took a long drag, pulling nicotine into the dark recesses of his lungs. Maybe he had underestimated Allison. She had her own agenda, but what? What was she hiding? It could interfere with his plans. He took another drag, held his breath, and released. He discarded the ash in a makeshift, tinfoil ashtray. Should he confront her with more force this time? He shook his head. No, the game had gotten too complex. For now, the best thing to do was to lay low and follow Allison’s orders. He would keep her content and unsuspecting.

S
teve stared at Syzygy. The hologram’s expression looked empty and hollow. The green gridlines on the floor lit up its face and flushed its skin to a rusted copper green. Syzygy leered at him.

Syzygy’s expression felt wrong, disconnected from everything. It reminded him of the accident, when he looked over at what remained of Tamara, broken glass and blood covering her face, body, the upholstery, everything. Yet, nothing had clicked. It didn’t register that she was gone. It never had. The truth of her absence never sunk in. At home, he would hear Brooke and think it was Tami. The doorbell would ring and he would expect to see her frustrated that she had forgotten her keys. Steve had never said goodbye.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head clear.

“We can take care of this,” Allison said.

“You’ve got to be joking,” he said.

“No, I’m not.” She locked into his stare.

He raised an eyebrow. “We’ll take care of it. One computer cowboy and a … a …” He paused. She belonged to their Chinese associates but what did she do? He had no idea. “What are you anyway?”

“Connected.”

“And?”

“Austin … Austin told you that I know Ed Davis?”

He nodded.

“I swear, if you can find him, DARPA will stop him, but you need to track him down.”

Steve stared at the pulsating green line that glowed beneath his virtual shoes. Something was wrong. He felt it. But her words made sense. He had trusted her. “Jan, can you search for the alias Syzygy and see if he’s online anywhere?”

“Thanks,” Allison said.

“I can only perform a partial Internet search …” Jan said.

“That’s fine.”

A few seconds passed. “Syzygy is online at the Ritz,” Jan said.

Steve turned to Allison. “I need to meet with you physically in order to pull this off.”

“Pull what off?”

“The trace.”

“Wouldn’t it be quicker to do it online?”

He shook his head. “The link would slow it down. The laptop with the trace software has to be directly connected to the auxiliary port of the Nexus. I’ll need you to run the software on the laptop, while I go online.”

“I’m not that technical, Steve.”

“It’s easy—just a few mouse clicks.”

She shrugged. “I guess it’s a date then without our VR masks.”

“Guess so,” Steve grinned. He knew she would be surprised to see that he used his own image. Meeting clients in the buff inside VR was very unconventional for consultants, like attending an interview without a suit. “Where are you now?”

“In Del Mar, near San Diego,” she said.

Steve thought for a moment then said, “Can you make it to the Swanson Hotel in Ventura by 3 p.m.”

“Yes, but why Ventura?”

“Ventura is close to one of the central nodes in the Internet. The Internet extends out like a spider’s web, branching from a set of central nodes. Connections between two machines always run through these central nodes even if the machines are next to one another. So, the number of hops the trace has to cover will be fewer if we are closer to a central node. What will you be wearing?”

“A floral dress. You’ll know who I am when you see me.”

“Okay.”

“We can register under Mr. and Mrs. Holt,” she said.

“Just make sure you reserve the honeymoon suite.”

“Really?” Allison said, amused.

“Uh, you don’t understand. It’s the only room with duel Internet access.”

Her eyes gleamed and she laughed. “See you in a few.” She winked out, exiting VR.

His gaze lingered on the space where she had stood, and the memory of her image stayed with him. Why did she draw him in? Probably sheer desperation. It was not easy to meet new people in this day and age. VR enabled people to interact more, but without intimacy. How could you trust the false image someone portrayed in VR? Somehow, his daughter and her friends’ generation had adapted, but the last time he had dated, meetings were conducted in person, in the flesh, not remotely, like in a video game. He exited VR and glanced at the LCD display on his Nexus: 1:54 p.m.

Steve caught a cab from LAX to Ventura. An hour later, a cab took him to the Swanson—a second-rate hotel in the outskirts of Ventura.

Steve remembered working at the Swanson ten years earlier when he first got out of college. Then Ventura was just a quiet suburb on the outskirts of LA. The city’s population had surged with an influx of new yuppies and their families. With them, a large transfusion of new money altered the landscape. New storefronts and rambling modern homes spread like cancer over the valley floor.

It surprised him how dilapidated the city had become. Aged, congested, engulfed by LA, Ventura had rotted. Here, like everywhere else, VR had collapsed its metropolitan real estate market.
Amazing how things change
.

The bellhop placed Steve’s three over-laden suitcases on a hotel dolly and wheeled them into the lobby. “Will you be checking in?”

“Not right now. I’m waiting for my wife. Could you please place the bags behind the counter?”

The bellhop nodded and pulled the cart behind the front desk. Steve walked to the waiting area and sat down. The bellhop parked the dolly behind the front counter and proceeded onto his next assignment. Steve picked up a product magazine. He skimmed through it for five minutes and noted at least three women with floral dresses, but they all passed through the lobby without stopping.

How would he recognize Allison? Her description was vague at best. Outside of VR she could be anyone. He chuckled. She could even be a man. Worse, he had forgotten to describe himself.

Steve spotted her and stood. Allison was tall and slender. Her moves were more graceful in person as she watched people approach. In person, she had an air of confidence that VR could not relay. Allison pushed back her long black hair and looked in his direction.

She too used her own image in VR.

He strode up to her, and her face broke into a welcoming smile.

“Hello, Allison.” He extended his hand.

“Hey, babe! What, no kiss?” She took him in her arms, planted a light kiss on his lips, and hugged him.

It felt good.

She whispered in his ear, “You’ve lost some weight. You really should update your image in VR.”

“Thanks.” He smiled.

She gave him another squeeze. “Have to keep up appearances you know, being married and all.”

“Right.” His heart sank a notch.

They checked in under the aliases Mr. and Mrs. Holt, paying with Austin’s expense account. A different bellhop than before approached the desk. Young and wiry, he attempted to carry the suitcases without a dolly. He picked up the luggage and set it down. “What do you have in there?”

“Chains and whips of course,” Allison teased. “We’re on our honeymoon.” She slipped her arm into Steve’s.

Steve looked down. His face flushed. Allison withdrew her arm. He looked up and she smirked.

“What?”

“This isn’t VR.”

Oh god.
His face reddened further. Steve averted his gaze. He felt naked, exposed out of VR in the open.

She took his arm. “Don’t sweat it. Let’s go.”

The bellboy left and returned with a cart. After loading the cart, he escorted them to the honeymoon suite, room 2001. Steve tipped the bellboy. He left and closed the door behind him. The room was fully equipped with all the amenities, including two terabit Internet connections.

“So, what toys do you have in here?” Allison laughed. She opened a suitcase and scanned the equipment. From her expression, he could tell it was all new to her.

“I used Camille’s profile to create a new alias for myself with the same long, brunette hair, slender, muscular body with gray, distant eyes and dark, olive-colored skin.”

Allison laughed. “You sound stunning!”

“I think I can provoke Syzygy into attacking me.”

“That’s thinking like a man! Why can’t you just use the Portal Sphere?”

He shook his head. “The Ritz only accepts Nexus connections and the Portal Sphere isn’t fast enough.”

“How are you going to protect yourself from the defect?”

She caught his gaze.

He studied her. Allison’s long, black hair was disheveled from her trip, and her deep blue eyes inviting.

Her gaze dropped to his lips and then darted back to his eyes.

He looked down, his thoughts jumbled. “Uh, I know a few tricks I can use.”

He reached into the suitcase and pulled out a case. From it, he extracted a miniature circuit strip. Then, cracking open the helmet’s casing with a miniature screwdriver, he removed a similar circuit strip. He showed the two circuit strips to Allison. “They look the same don’t they?”

Allison nodded.

“But they are quite different. You see, Syzygy’s attack depends on this.” He held up the strip from the Nexus. “Both of these are versions of the Signal Amplifier. The Signal Amplifier is responsible for directing and regulating the strength of the signals sent to the brain. The problem is that this Signal Amplifier, the one I removed from the Nexus, is too flexible. It can direct a strong pulse to the wrong areas of the brain, which can lead to a seizure, and possibly death, as it did in Camille’s case.

“While at Nexus Corporation, I wrote a patch, software that prevents these conditions. The software checks the strength and direction of the signal before the Nexus sends it to the brain. If the patch finds a violation, it prevents the amplifier from sending the signal.

“However, Syzygy managed to bypass the patch and exploit the Signal Amplifier’s defect. He sends three signals to the Nexus. The first kills the V-chip software, the second crashes the patch software, and the third overloads the Signal Amplifier.

“This other circuit strip, the one I pulled out of the bag, is a newer prototype of the Signal Amplifier. This prototype does not have the capability of sending such a strong signal to the fatal areas of the brain. It doesn’t matter what programs Syzygy crashes or what components he overloads; this prototype simply can’t kill anyone. It nullifies Syzygy’s attack. Unfortunately, I only have one of these.”

Steve paused and regarded the inexpensive device. It was remarkable. A cheap piece of plastic engraved with thin gold lines linking a dozen computer chips was the difference between life and death.

Steve snapped the new signal amplifier into place on the Nexus and reconnected the wires.

“That plugs the security hole,” he said. He closed the casing of the Nexus.

Steve pulled a laptop out of the suitcase and plugged one end of a cable into the Nexus and the other into the laptop. “This will provide us with a secure, direct channel,” Steve explained. You can talk into this built-in speaker on my laptop. This is a private, secure link. No one else will be able to hear us. You can use it to keep me abreast of the trace while I’m in VR.”

Steve powered up the laptop. Once the system was up and running, Steve pointed to a detective’s magnifying glass icon on the laptop screen. “Allison, click on that icon.”

Allison moved the mouse over the icon and clicked the left mouse button. A window opened on the laptop’s screen. It was titled
Sniffer
and contained a map of the world.

He pointed to an icon in the window. “Press this to start the logical trace to Syzygy’s Nexus through the Internet. Once it finds him, it’ll open a window detailing his Nexus’ serial number, model, and other details. This new window will also have a button labeled GPS. Press it.

“The Global Positioning System is built into the Nexus’ processor. By comparing the signals from three or more GPS satellites, the chip can triangulate down to the square foot where the Nexus is located. Syzygy’s Nexus will send us its location across the Internet. It should come back quickly with another window, detailing Syzygy’s physical location.

“At which point I can take care of things,” Allison said.

He nodded.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He shot Allison a questioning look.

“Does the V-chip ring any bells?”

“God. Thanks!” Steve gasped. He had forgotten that Syzygy had disabled the V-chip software, and Steve would appear to Syzygy as a beautiful woman. The last thing he wanted was to be raped by Syzygy while in cyberspace.

He shuddered. He completed the lock on the V-chip software.
Now that plugs security hole number two.
He hoped there wasn’t another; but the Nexus was very new.

Steve exhaled. He lay on the bed and entered VR.

“Computer, endow me with the alias Camille.”

Steve felt himself transform in VR. He glanced down and inspected his new body. The alias had the same look and stature that Camille had used. He walked in a circle and tested its tall, athletic frame.

His newly acquired dark hair fell in front of his face as he turned. He threw it back out of his face. As he ran his hands down his hips, he shuddered. This was seriously wrong. He would never get used to some aspects of VR.

He twisted his left earring so only Allison could hear him and spoke. “Are you there? Allison?”

Her warm voice called back from the real world. “I’m right here.”

The secure link was working. He was ready. “Ritz chat room.”

A portal opened and he stepped through.

Steve emerged through an archway into a formal, circular shaped gallery. Evenly spaced on the room’s black onyx walls were several other archways, indistinguishable from one another. The chat room’s logo—a complex maze of black marble laced with gold—was etched in the black marble floor.

A glint of light made him look. Fifteen feet above the floor, in the center of the room, a thin mist had formed. The mist turned and acted as a prism, splitting the sunlight into its base colors. Belts of yellow, red, and blue danced off the onyx, gold, and marble. Everything in the room had been polished to a shine to enhance the effect.

He then noticed the balconies above the archways. They, too, were trimmed with gold. Rose vines tumbled over the corners of each balcony and stretched down to the black marble floor below.

A water drop struck his cheek. The mist remained in the center of the room and not overhead. He looked straight up. There was no ceiling. Instead, the walls and balconies stretched to infinity. Breathing deeply, he felt cool, moist air line his lungs. Wherever the water came from, its source had to be close.

He listened and heard the sound of water. Behind him, the closest wall glistened. Curious, he reached out and touched it. He pulled his hand back in surprise. A cool veneer of water cascaded across the entire surface of the wall.

Extravagance was cheap in the virtual realm. Steve touched his earring and whispered, “Allison, you should see this place.”

He looked around. Where was the index? He approached an archway. Nothing happened. “Computer, show me your site index.”

A woman materialized in front of him. “May I help you?”

“I’m looking for someone, a man called Syzygy. Is he online?”