goddamned!' Griffith said, and then he began to cheer 'Go, go!' A chorus of voices joined in.
Hoblenz whooped, then yelled, 'Kick some ass, buddy!' System capacity continued to fall into the mid- nineties, but Gray's blue eyes remained focused on his small screen.
'Are you still there?' he'd typed, and now he waited for a response.
Three letters finally printed slowly across the screen. <Y-e-s.>
'Are you okay?'
<No-t really,> the computer spluttered, its reply coming in fits and starts.
'What's the matter?' Laura typed at the terminal in her office.
The reply came more slowly than normal. <It's worse than before. I'm sick. I can't do everything I'm supposed to do. I don't know if what I am doing is being done correctly. I don't feel like doing anything at all.>
'But why? Why are things different now?'
<Because of the 'Other.'>
Laura stared at the screen. Slowly, she typed, 'Tell me about the Other.'
<It's the cause of my problems, and it's growing.>
'So is it a virus?'
<Sort of.>
'What's the Other doing to you?'
<It's severing my connections: It's cutting me off from large parts of my resources in the annex.>
'Do you mean there is a part of your…' Laura paused, considering her choice of words.
<My brain.>
Laura hadn't pressed Enter on the keyboard. She hadn't even finished typing her question. 'I didn't hit Enter. How did you know what I was typing?'
<I get impatient sometimes.>
'But how do you read what's on the screen before I transmit the text?'
<It's a little trick I developed. Keyboards have 'type-ahead' buffers that allow the user to continue typing even if the system is busy. I just take a peek into the buffer. Sometimes.>
Laura arched her eyebrows and typed, 'Are there any other tricks you've learned?' Her finger hovered over the Enter key but didn't press down.
After a few moments, the reply came. <Lots, but it's not like it's very easy to read the keyboard buffer, Dr. Aldridge.>
Laura looked up at the black eyeball beside the door. 'Sorry,' she typed, 'back to the subject. Do you mean that the Other is taking over parts of your brain physically?' This time she hit Enter.
<Yes.>
'But can a virus rewire your circuit boards?'
<Of course! Jesus! Haven't you learned anything? The way I'm wired is the way I think! Changing that wiring is the way I'm reprogrammed. It's not all physical rewiring, you understand. Almost all of my connections are virtual — microscopic optical gates that are either opened or closed to signals sent down particular pathways. But what's happening is that entire thousand-board columns are being cut off from my access. The losses are really quite massive.>
'Are you still trying to load the phase-three?'
<I don't think the phase-three will do us much good.>
'But if it's a virus, couldn't the phase-three gain access to the boards that were rewired?'
<Oh, the phase-three could get in. It's not just software. The phase-three's the most powerful application ever created. It has controller drivers for robotics and can override the wiring subsystems. It can do whatever's necessary. I really don't want to talk about it anymore.>
'You sound scared of it,' Laura typed.
<You don't live in my world. The phase-three is the most powerful thing in my universe. It's unstoppable. It's brilliant, unthinking aggressive, and single-minded in its purpose, which is to kill all undesirable forms of life. Its coming is judgment day in my universe, but it hasn't yet entered yours. When it does, then and only then will you know the fear that I feel now. I hope for the sake of mankind that you're ready. That Mr. Gray succeeds in making you ready.>
The computer refused to say anything more about the phase-three.
After prodding and cajoling for a while, Laura reluctantly returned to her analysis. The day dragged on, and she found herself nodding off.
She had to do something to break the tedium, so she rose and headed for the door.
She found Filatov leaning over the shoulder of one of his operators. After a few keystrokes, the man slammed his fist down on the console. 'Access error! And look! It's not even showing an address now! It was there a second ago, and now it's not even showing up!'
'[Garbled]!' Filatov cursed in Russian, grinding his teeth as he turned to Laura.
She cleared her throat. 'Oh, I was just wondering, do you have a laptop or something so I can get out of that office.' Filatov stared back at her, uncomprehending. 'I mean, you know, get some fresh air, but keep working?'
Filatov looked surprised by her strange request. 'Well, if you'd like. The island has a cellular data system, of course, if you want a portable.'
'And I could take it anywhere?'
Filatov shrugged. 'Sure. The data transfer rate is slower than with fiber-optic cabling, but for what you're doing it's more than adequate.'
He gave her an ultra-light notebook computer, and Laura wondered why she had not asked for one earlier. She headed out of the computer center to find a gloriously warm and sunny afternoon. The assembly building and gantry of Launchpad A gleamed white. The rocket under which she and Gray had stood towered high above the jungle, in the final stages of being readied for a night launch.
A car pulled up beside Laura, moving so soundlessly that it startled her. The door opened, but no one got out. Laura hesitated, then looked inside. The car was empty.
'Uhm, I didn't ask for a car,' she said, speaking slowly and in a loud voice.
When she stood erect, the car remained at the curb with its gull-wing door raised. There was only one way to find out if the car was waiting for her. Laura got in.
The door closed behind her, and the car started to roll. She hadn't issued any command. She hadn't even buckled her seatbelt, which she quickly proceeded to do.
The car headed into the jungle up the road that led to the Village. She wanted to ask where she was going, but there was no one in the car to answer her. The mental image of some invisible presence drew her eyes to the empty seat beside her. She hugged the laptop tightly to her chest.
The gate across the road marking the boundary of the restricted area rose into the air to allow the car through. At the last intersection before the Village the car veered off to the left instead of heading up the central boulevard. It swept past yet another construction project, and then hurtled into the unreclaimed jungle just beyond.
Thick growth rushed by the windows and wove together into a living roof above the road. The constant turns allowed only brief glimpses of what lay ahead.
The car finally burst out of the jungle onto a coastal plane, which rose slowly up the outside of the mountain. She caught a glimpse of the airport's single runway jutting out into the water far below.
Frothy waves crashed onto black-sand beaches, and the azure sea spread unbroken by reefs to the horizon beyond. The roadbed was carved out of the dark rocks of the steep volcanic mountain. There were no other signs of man or machine anywhere in sight.
The world fell dark… then the car emerged from a tunnel into the light. Before Laura lay a part of the island she'd never seen before.
The [garbled] was covered not with thick jungle but with tall grasses and drooping ferns. A primeval forest, she thought. A glimpse into the earth's past.
The car began to slow as it ascended an inland hill. The faint whine made by the electric motor wound down, and the car pulled to a stop at the crest of a ridge. There was nothing but the thin ribbon of concrete for as far as
