Markovi strode to the office wall that held his main viewscreen. He was reaching out to tap it and call the home corp when the latches on Gretchen's toolbox gave way. Computer tools and parts spilled in a spectacular jumble across the carpet close to the wall.
'Oh hell,' Gretchen grumbled. 'Hey, can you give me a hand here? I asked for a new toolbox, but nooooo… '
Markovi gave a put-upon sigh and knelt to help her gather up the scattered materials. He didn't notice Gretchen palm a chip half the size of a fingernail and stick it to the wall just beneath the viewscreen.
Once the mess was cleaned up, Gretchen thanked Markovi and he tapped the viewscreen. 'HQ,' he said. 'Extension one three six.'
A moment later, a dark-haired man with a mole on his cheek appeared. Gretchen barely recognized Ben. Harenn, the resident makeup expert, had done a good job.
'Doug Markovi at Sunnytree,' Markovi said. 'I have a computer technician here who says she's supposed to fix a glitch in our sprinkler and irrigation system. But I didn't receive any authorization for it. Can you confirm?'
'I didn't get it.'
Markovi folded his arms. 'Well it's not in order from my end.'
'Look,' Gretchen interrupted, 'it's getting close to lunch time and I don't want to be dicking around here all day. You don't want me to fix the glitch, I won't fix the glitch.' She pulled a computer pad from her pocket and tapped at it. 'Just thumb here to indicate you refused service. When your fertilizer system goes kaflooey, give Compulink a yell and we'll try to get someone down here, but since you refused the free repair, it'll count as an emergency call and you'll pay full emergency rates.'
'Not my call,' Gretchen said. 'Thumb here, please.' She thrust the computer pad at Markovi.
Markovi hesitated. 'Look, I'm only-'
'Just thumb it,' Gretchen said. 'I've got other calls to make today.'
'No, that's all right,' Markovi said, putting his hands behind his back. 'Fix the glitch.'
'You sure?' Gretchen said, waggling the pad. 'Because I can be out of here in-'
'Just fix it,' Markovi snapped.
Gretchen put the pad back into her pocket with a shrug. 'You're the boss. Can you have someone show me where your equipment mainframe is?'
Markovi nodded to her and tapped the viewscreen off without saying good-bye to Ben, who would deactivate the chip remotely from the Poltergeist. Then Markovi called a husky-looking man into the office.
'This is Joe,' Markovi said. 'He'll show you what's where.'
Gretchen chewed her gum noisily and followed Joe out to the farm proper. The smell of mulch and damp moss assailed her, and the hot sun burned high overhead. Joe took Gretchen to what looked like a wooden barn. Inside, however, were no stables or animals. Instead, they entered a series of tiled corridors and equipment bays full of machines Gretchen didn't recognize. She hoped she wouldn't have to comment on any of them. Fans hummed and overhead pipes gurgled. The air was cool, and no slaves were in evidence. Gretchen glanced around as if in idle curiosity but was careful to memorize the route back in case she had to make a hasty exit.
'Mainframe's in here,' Joe said, opening a door and gesturing inside. He was a big man who bulged in places where nothing should bulge, and Gretchen wondered how many weapons he was carrying. Still chewing her gum and keeping her face bland, Gretchen peered suspiciously into the room. It wouldn't be impossible that Markovi was on to her and had somehow told Joe to bop her over the head or zap her with something nasty and lock her in some kind of prison cell. But the room beyond was full of computer equipment. A lone technician tapped at a keyboard. He glanced up as Gretchen entered. Joe shut the door behind her, leaving the two of them alone. Loud classical music floated from hidden speakers.
'Hey,' Gretchen said. 'I'm Denise Fell with Compulink. Gotta fix a glitch before it becomes a problem.'
'Vince Mays,' he said without turning down the music. 'Systems operator. What's the glitch?' Gretchen cracked her gum and explained. Mays said, 'There's a terminal over there. Do what you have to.'
Gretchen sat at the indicated keyboard. A single tap brought up the holographic screen, and she positioned herself between it and Mays so Mays couldn't read over her shoulder. Then she pressed a finger to her ear. The implant in her ear canal sprang to life.
'Okay, Ben, I'm in,' she sub-vocalized. Mays's music helped cover the sound. 'You still have access to my eye implant?'
' I'm with you,' came Ben's voice. ' Put your pad on the desk so the IR beam can link up with the mainframe. The program I put in it should hack you root access, just like a real Compulink tech would normally have. Sunnytree's equipment mainframe isn't linked to the outside, so their computer's security probably isn't all that great-they'll be figuring you can't hack what you can't get to.'
Which was why Gretchen had to show up with a wad of gum in her mouth and a toolbox in her hand.
Gretchen set the pad on the desk and pretended to click computer keys while the pad did its work. She was getting nervous. Vince Mays could walk over and check out what she was doing at any moment, and getting her ass off the farm would be problematic if she were discovered. Gretchen shot Mays a covert glance, but he seemed more interested in his own screen than in hers.
' Don't forget the copycat,' Ben reminded her.
Swearing softly, Gretchen fished a flat, black box from her toolkit. Red lights skittered around the edge when she pressed the activation button. After a moment, a small screen displayed the message, Two hundred fifteen local frequencies detected, along with a list of numbers. Please indicate which frequency you wish to copy.
Gretchen ran a stylus down the entire list to select all of them. Working, the screen said. Gretchen set the copycat back in her toolbox and turned back to the computer pad. It was still breaking into the mainframe. Her hands were shaking now and she forced them back into steadiness. She peeked at Mays. He was looking directly at her. Gretchen's mouth went dry around the gum.
'What?' she asked.
'Just wondering what you're up to over there,' Mays said with a smile. 'Will it take long?'
'Shouldn't.'
'Maybe I can help.' He started to get to his feet. Gretchen's heart leaped into her throat. If he got a look at her screen, he'd see she hadn't even logged in yet and would know something was up.
'Nuh uh.' She held up both hands, partly to indicate negation and partly to block his view of her screen. 'Company policy. If I get help from someone who isn't a Compulink employee, the union will have conniptions.'
'Funny,' Mays frowned. 'I've helped Compulink people before.'
'New policy.' Gretchen rolled her eyes. 'You know how bureaucrats and bean counters get.'
'Around here everyone's a bean counter,' Mays said with a grin. At Gretchen's blank look, he added, 'Cocoa beans?'
Gretchen forced a laugh, though she was ready to bolt for the door. 'Guess I'm not very quick on the uptake today.' She blew a gum bubble to cover the pounding of her heart. What the hell was taking Ben's program so long? 'I better see what trouble I can get into on your network, then.'
She turned back to her terminal, pretending to work but actually holding her breath. Mays didn't come up behind her. After a moment, she snuck another peek. His attention was back on his work.
At last-at last- the pad flashed. The holographic screen on the terminal flickered and Gretchen found she had root access.
'Got it,' she murmured. 'And next time you should be doing this, Benny-boy.'
' I would have,' Ben said in her ear, ' except I'm the only one who knows how to tap the communication system and reroute Markovi's calls. Okay, here's what you do next.'
As Ben spoke, printed instructions scrolled across the bottom of Gretchen's eye-her ocular implant at work. She did as instructed, accessing the section of the mainframe that oversaw the farm's automated equipment and uploading a single program. Then she downloaded several files of information and she reached into her toolbox to check the copycat.
'Both jobs are done,' she muttered to Ben. 'I'm on my way out.'
' Great job, ' he said. ' I'll tell Kendi.'
'You're all set,' Gretchen announced to Mays and held her pad out to him. 'Be a pal and thumb this service acknowledgment, would you? The company doesn't care who thumbs the thing, and I don't want to track down that guy Markovi again.'
