The Devil's Code

NEWSPAPERS . S O I FIGURE THAT ’ S NO BIG DEAL , BECAUSE C LIPPER II IS DEAD IN THE H OUSE AND EVEN DEADER IN THE S ENATE AND EVERYBODY EXCEPT THE INTELLIGENCE GOOFS IN W ASHINGTON KNOWS IT ’ S TOO LATE ANYWAY . B UT AROUND HERE , THEY ’ RE ACTING LIKE IT ’ S A NEW ATOMIC BOMB , AND THESE PEOPLE AIN ’ T GOOFS . I N FACT , THEY SCARE ME A LITTLE BIT .
    T HE OTHER DAY I WAS MANIPULATING A BUNCH OF STUFF IN A FILE CALLED OMS JUST TO SEE IF THE SYSTEM WAS RIGHT . I GOT TO READING SOME OF IT , AND FUCK ME WITH A PHONE POLE IF IT HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH C LIPPER . I WAS STILL READING THROUGH IT WHEN A SECURITY GUY CAME DOWN FROM C ORPORATE AND ASKED ME WHAT I WAS DOING . I TOLD HIM , ACCESS TESTS , AND TOLD HIM I WASN ’ T REALLY READING ANYTHING , AND HE TELLS ME TO STAY OFF THAT LINK UNLESS I GIVE PRIOR NOTICE . I SAY OK . T HEY MUST ’ VE HAD A TRIP WIRE ON IT .
    S O ANYWAY , I’ M GOING BACK TONIGHT WITH A BUNCH OF J AZ DISKS , I’ M GONNA DISCONNECT THE TRIP WIRE AND DUMP THE OMS FILE . (OMS I FOUND OUT STANDS FOR O LD M AN OF THE S EA , BUT I DIDN ’ T SEE ANYTHING IN IT ABOUT H EMINGWAY .) A NYWAY , JUST IN CASE , I’ LL STASH COPIES IN THE SAFEST POSSIBLE PLACE .
    I F YOU ’ RE READING THIS , I’ M PROBABLY IN A JAM . T HE GUY TO WATCH IS A SECURITY ASSHOLE NAMED W ILLIAM H ART . T HERE ARE RUMORS THAT HE USED TO BE SOME KIND OF MILITARY SECURITY GUY OR SOMETHING , AND HE GOT KICKED OUT . O NE OF THE SECRETARIES TOLD ME THAT HE ’ D DONE TIME IN PRISON BEFORE HE CAME TO A M M ATH , SO YOU WANT TO STAY AWAY FROM HIM .
    S O , THAT ’ S IT . I HOPE TO HELL I’ M READING THIS , AND NOT YOU . I F IT ’ S YOU , COME GET ME . S AY HELLO TO L U E LLEN FOR ME  . . . DON ’ T TAKE ANY WOODEN PUSSY .
     
    J ACK
    That did not sound good. I looked at if for a couple of minutes, then buzzed Bobby: Bobby’s always available. After I buzzed him, I got the “?” again, and went back with a “k.” He was on immediately.
K IDD , WHERE YOU BEEN ?
    F ISHING .
    B EEN TRYING TO FIND YOU : SAW AIRLINE TO K ENORA AND THEN LOS T YOU .
    O UT OF TOUCH . W HAT ’ S HAPPENING ?
    Y OU READ ABOUT F IREWALL ?
    I KNOW NOTHING . J UST BACK NOW .
    G O OUT ON N ET , LOOK AT PAPERS , N EW Y ORK T IMES , W ALL S TREET J OURNAL , W ASHINGTON P OST . W E NEED TO FIND F IREWALL AND GIVE THEM TO COPS . B UT F IREWALL NAMES ARE NOT GOOD . Y OU ARE NOT F IREWALL . S TANFORD IS NOT . O NE 2O XFORD IS NOT . C ARL G IS NOT .
    I DON ’ T KNOW WHAT YOU ’ RE TALKING ABOUT .
    R EAD PAPERS AND GET BACK . Y OUR NAME IS ON LIST .
    D O YOU KNOW S TANFORD IS DEAD ?
    Standford was Jack’s working name. There was a pause; something you didn’t get with Bobby.
D EAD ? A RE YOU SURE ? W HEN AND WHERE ?
    L AST F RIDAY IN D ALLAS . S UPPOSEDLY SHOT TO DEATH DURING BREAK - IN AT SOFTWARE COMPANY CALLED A M M ATH .
    D ID NOT KNOW . W ILL CHECK IMMEDIATELY . S TANFORD IS ON F IREWALL LIST .
    D O YOU KNOW L ANE W ARD ?
    N O . I’ VE HEARD NAME . C OMPUTERS AT B ERKELEY .
    I NEED BROTHERS AND SISTERS FOR L ANE W ARD AND ALSO PHOTO FOR W ARD . S OONEST .
    W ILL DUMP TO YOUR BOX ONE HOUR . Y OU MUST GO OUT ON N ET !!! R EAD F IREWALL . I WILL CHECK ON S TANFORD .
    O K  . . . W ILL CALL BACK .
    Dial tone and out.
    I read down the screen once more, wiped out everything but the letter, printed it, and then said, “Hey.”
    Lane drifted back. “What?” she asked.
    “A letter from your brother.”
    “Aw, jeez.”
    I pulled it out of the printer and handed it to her. She took a minute reading it, a little vertical line between her eyes. Then she read it again and a tear trickled down one cheek. Finally, she looked up.
    “Why would he do that?”
    “Curiosity. Jack was a computer guy. If you tell a computer guy not to look in a file, he’ll look in the file.”
    “Especially if he thinks of himself as some kind of cool James Bond guy,” she said. Like it was my fault.
    “Do you know anything about a group called Firewall?” I asked.
    She gave me a long look and then asked, “Are you working for the government?”
    That took a while to sort out. I told her about Bobby’s strange anxiety and she suggested that I do what Bobby wanted: that I look up Firewall in thepapers and on the Net. I went back out, with Lane looking over my shoulder.
    E ight days earlier, as I’d been sitting on my living room floor sorting out pike lures, a National Security Agency bureaucrat named Lighter had been murdered walking near his home in Maryland. Jack