Daemon

their LEDs flickering away in the semidarkness of emergency lights. Through the glass Sebeck could make out several employees moving about. They were still monitoring the machines.
    It was hard to see them clearly because the vestibule windows were fogged with a yellowish film – residue from burning human fat. The victim had been electrocuted in dramatic fashion.
    Sebeck stood in the dim glow of emergency lights alongside the building’s chief operating engineer, CyberStorm’s network services director, county paramedics, a city power company foreman, and the president and CEO of CyberStorm, Ken Kevault.
    Kevault was in his late thirties, tall and lean with spiky hair. His black, short-sleeve silk shirt revealed death skull tattoos on his forearms, and he had the sort of deep tan and wrinkles one gets after years of surfing. He looked more like an aging rock star than a corporate executive. He hadn’t said a word since they arrived.
    Sebeck turned to the power and light foreman. ‘The primary power’s been cut?’
    The building engineer responded instead. ‘Yes, sir.’
    Sebeck turned to him. ‘Then those computers are running on backup power?’
    ‘Right.’
    ‘Let’s get that room evacuated.’
    ‘There’s another exit like this one, but it could be just as dangerous. I told the techs to stay put for now.’
    Sebeck nodded. ‘Who can tell me what happened?’
    The engineer and network services director looked to each other. The engineer already had the floor. ‘About a half hour ago, one of the CyberStorm guys was electrocuted going through the inner security door. I don’t know how it’s possible, but the techs said he was standing there with smoke coming off his shoulders for about thirty seconds before he keeled over. And there he is.’
    Kevault let out a hiss of disgust and shook his head ruefully.
    Sebeck ignored him. ‘The CyberStorm guys? So you’re not a CyberStorm employee?’
    The engineer shook his head. ‘No, I work for the building owner.’
    ‘And who owns the building?’
    Eyes shifted from person to person for a moment or two until Kevault spoke up. ‘It’s part of a real estate investment trust, with a majority share held by CyberStorm.’
    Sebeck turned back to the engineer. ‘So you are a CyberStorm employee.’
    Kevault interposed again. ‘No, the trust is not the same legal entity as CyberStorm, and the trust outsources the engineering, security, and other building functions.’
    Sebeck could already imagine lawyers pointing fingers at each other for the next decade. ‘Forget that. Has anyone entered or left the scene since the incident?’
    All the men shook their heads.
    ‘Are there electrical blueprints for this entryway? Any recent un-permitted modifications I should know about?’
    An edge crept into the lead engineer’s voice. ‘We don’t do un-permitted construction here. All this equipment was signed off on by the city and fire inspectors two years ago, and we have the occupancy permit to prove it.’
    The guy looked to be about fifty. A broad-shouldered Latino with a marine corps tattoo on his forearm. Sebeck figured this guy wasn’t going to take any shit. He watched as the engineer moved to a flat-paneled workstation on a nearby desk and spun the panel to face them all. In a moment, the engineer brought up a 3-D map of their location. The map was a series of clean vector lines in primary colors.
    The engineer tapped keys, highlighting a colored layer to emphasize each word. ‘Plumbing, HVAC, Fire/Safety, Electrical.’
    The image zoomed in. It was like a video game with transparent walls. They were now looking at a computer image of the vestibule, and Sebeck could see the yellow electrical lines running down through the door frame to the combination magstripe/keypad in the door’s strike plate.
    No wonder the engineer had an attitude. He had every damned screw modeled in 3-D.
    ‘There’s no power source in that wall sufficient to electrocute a man like that, and even if there was, the breakers should have tripped. There’s a short somewhere. Probably to a trunk line. Maybe it electrified the door frame.’
    The power company guy leaned in. ‘What’s going into the server farm? Three-phase 480?’
    ‘Yeah, but it’s coming up through the floor. There’s a trunk line running through a vertical penetration. The decking was reinforced to hold the weight of the racks, and there’s a fiber backbone—’
    ‘Gentlemen.’ Sebeck stepped between