Part 3 (1/2)

But Simon continued, ”Except it's probably pa.s.sword-protected, with some sort of dual security requirement to change the code, so the retinal scan isn't enough. At least that's what I would do if I were the programmer.”

He addressed the computer. ”Sarah, change line 34,572 of the nav system code to take a real number instead of an integer.”

The female intonation replied, ”Please provide the code pa.s.sword.”

Abbey felt the disappointment pull at her. Simon muttered something about pa.s.sword algorithms. She studied the lacquered surface of the computer terminal. It was a rich blue with flecks of white and black, as if it were made of blue granite. But stone would be too heavy on a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p. Abbey brushed the surface with her fingertips. Her fingers found the two stylized S's. SS, like two entangled snakes. Probably something to do with the S Systems they'd seen earlier. But there was something twisty about the S's that she didn't like. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her fingers away. Simon was dictating some strange words to Sarah. The time display in the bottom left corner of the screen read 4:23. Caleb had been gone for twelve minutes. She wondered if time in whatever this place was pa.s.sed at the same rate as time at home, and if they'd be home in time for dinner.

The computer voice startled her. ”Algorithm running time: four hours and ten minutes.”

”What does that mean?” she asked Simon. The s.h.i.+p seemed like it was slowing. The causeway in the hillside that they'd left behind half an hour before had reappeared in the window. Abbey sucked in her breath in relief as the large vessel sank gracefully back into its parking s.p.a.ce.

”It means we won't be able to solve the problem any time soon, unless I come up with something brilliant.”

”Well, let's get out of here as soon as Caleb gets back, and then we won't have to worry about it,” Abbey said.

”I guess,” Simon said, pulling his toque down further on his forehead.

”Wait a second. That was the deal. You aren't planning to try to stick around and solve this problem, are you?”

Simon turned to her, his face drawn with the beginnings of the angles of adulthood. A skiff of stubble shaded his jaw. He was and wasn't the same Simon that used to play chess, crib, and Scrabble with her while Caleb leapt off docks, walls, and jumps. ”We didn't have a deal, Abs,” he said.

A shot of some stress-related hormone, adrenaline probably, careened through her body. ”What? Mom and Dad will freak out if you're not home for dinner.”

”It's not like anyone else would miss me.”

I would, Abbey thought, the tears hot against her eyelids. ”This has something to do with Russell Andrews, doesn't it?”

”I don't want to talk about it.”

The s.h.i.+p had stopped moving. She listened for the sound of Caleb's sandals, but all was silent. There was only the low hum of the computer.

”Simon, how did you know the slogan? The S Systems slogan?”

”I dunno. I just threw that out there. I've always thought that's what computers should be like. We shouldn't even know they're there. They should just do their thing.”

”Algorithm expectation of success one in one thousand,” the computer said.

The door opened with a whoosh and Caleb burst into the room, his eyes alight and body jittering with energy. His orange hair stood wildly askew, like he'd just walked through a static storm. Everything about Caleb breathed surf, and sun, and tans, and beach parties, even in the winter. Abbey was the pale carbon copy, insipid almost, with her red hair compliantly curled at her shoulders, milky skin, and neat and folded lines. She was the potential energy to his kinetic.

”That was the best! You can see everything from up there. Do you have any idea how fast we were moving? Max says we can stay if we need to. He lives on board.”

”We aren't staying. We're going. Now.” Abbey rose to her feet. Neither of her brothers moved. She stomped her foot and glared at Simon. ”Or I'll tell Mom and Dad about Russell Andrews, and the email, and...and I'll tell Sarah Baker you stole her scarf.”

A vague hint of color flitted across Simon's face, and he opened his mouth to say something-something no doubt snide and threatening. Abbey only knew about Sarah's scarf because she had been snooping in Simon's room and found it hidden there. Plus, the stunning, unattainable Sarah had spent an entire week turning the school upside down in search of her rainbow scarf. Abbey braced for Simon's response, for his anger at her betrayal, but he pulled his brows together and turned back to the computer. ”Sarah,” he said, ”try this pa.s.sword. Open bracket, if pa.s.sword equals two-two-five-three-seven then true, close bracket.”

”Pa.s.sword accepted.”

”Whoa, dude. How'd you figure that out?”

Simon ignored Caleb. ”Now change line 34,572 of the nav system code to take a real number instead of an integer, then run a diagnostic.”

Sarah's voice almost sounded enthusiastic. ”Code change complete. Running diagnostic... Navigation system now functioning. s.p.a.ce-coordinate calculations can be completed to the third decimal.”

They all stared at the screen.

”I can't believe it,” Abbey finally said. ”How did you know the pa.s.sword?”

”Most programmers have a standard framework they use for all pa.s.swords,” Simon said. ”They sub in a section of it for each new pa.s.sword based on a set of rules. So, they never forget their pa.s.swords because they can derive them, but the pa.s.swords are complex enough to be secure.”

”But how did you know this programmer's set of rules?” asked Abbey.

”That's where it gets a little weird,” Simon answered. ”They're the same rules I use.”

”Weird,” said Caleb, writing something on a piece of paper and putting it in his pocket. ”Since the problem's fixed, Abbey's probably right. We should head. It's almost dinner.”

”I'm staying,” Simon said stubbornly, staring at the screen.

Abbey opened her mouth to argue, but Caleb spoke first. ”Dude, what's up with that? We've got a perfectly good world here that we can visit whenever we want. I'm all for an adventure, but where are you going to sleep tonight? Wouldn't it be better to do some recon first? Make sure there's no giant orcs or evil dictator?”

Abbey's fingers involuntarily traced the SS on the computer terminal.

”We can come back tomorrow,” Caleb said.

Simon clenched his teeth, making his cheek pulse. ”This place might be gone tomorrow.”

Caleb shrugged and rocked back in his shoes. ”It'll probably be here tomorrow.”

Simon scowled, but he stood. ”Tell you what. I'll think about it while I walk the two of you back to the stones.”

”Fair enough. I'll let Max know we're done.” Caleb pressed the b.u.t.ton to open the door. It slid open to reveal Max's khaki pantsuit and bearded face.

Abbey jumped.

”All done?”

”Yup,” said Caleb. ”The problem's all fixed.”

”Sweet. You sure can't beat your service. I know people are p.i.s.sed about your new OS and the lawsuit with Salvador. No offense, of course. I understand it's just business. But Sinclair has b.a.l.l.s, that's for sure.”

A chasm of discomfort opened and Abbey searched her brain circuitry for any sort of response.

”For sure,” said Simon. ”We have to run. Got another appointment.”

Simon edged toward the door and she and Caleb followed. To Abbey's relief, Max didn't stop them. Abbey blinked as they emerged out onto the causeway. The light had a darker quality and the air hung with the lavish damp of a coming storm. Thunderheads loomed behind the mountains and a low rumbling echoed in the distance. Max leapt over the edge of the gangplank onto the causeway and started fastening the s.h.i.+p down with large metal clamps.

”Dang storms. They just keep getting worse and worse. I'd better batten down the hatches. Thanks for your help. Maybe I'll see you around.”

Abbey, Caleb and Simon walked down the causeway back toward the mirrored building. She exhaled in short, silent puffs. They were finally headed in the direction of home. Maybe everything would be fine. She calculated the distance between them and the building-three hundred meters, maybe two-fifty. The average brisk walking pace of a human was six point five kilometers per hour. At this pace, they could cover that distance in two minutes. Abbey allowed herself to start to believe they would be home within the next ten minutes.