'It goes in galloping gigabytes.'
Jill got Jacob Rand on the speakerphone. His company was called IT Defense.
'For purposes of our analysis,' Jacob began, 'we've as sumed someone with a lot of money and a workforce of, say, twenty experienced programmers. They'd have to know security. There would be other personnel, network engineers, and the like. We are assuming a lot of money, resources. The attack we envision would require a powerful computer worm that would confine itself largely to U.S. computers and would corrupt data, and in many cases effectively destroy hardware. They would choose a widely used software application. As an example they could use Windows SMB file sharing-'
'You mean like Windows SMB/CIFS,' Sam interrupted.
'Exactly. This service is on by default on many corporate installations and a lot of private ones as well. We figure they will discover a previously unknown vulnerability in this or some other common program, a weakness that has never been exploited. They are there and when they find it-bingo! At first we won't know what the hell is happening, because we won't have seen the computers go flat on their ass in precisely this manner.
'The way into a system will be via mail worm mode or an infected Web server mode that can infect a browser. The Nimbda virus demonstrated the effectiveness of a mail invasion for crossing firewalls. It didn't go into a guy's computer and use the address book application indiscriminately. It only replied to incoming mail. It was slow and insidious. A good worm would not waste time mailing to Hotmail ac counts and the like, but instead would limit itself to only cer tain addresses-the ones that inflict the most damage. For example, if it invades a corporation's computer system, it would not send out e-mails to other computers within that system. That way you won't have twenty people all compar ing notes and realizing that they all have the same peculiar e-mail in their in box. The virus only needs to get into one corporate computer to infect the entire corporate intranet. Once in, it just goes from one computer to the next, munch ing the data on the hard drives and/or frying the drives them selves. It would be careful to filter out IP addresses that weren't associated with the U.S. That way the bastards could work from a foreign country with impunity and unharmed.
'We figure in the U.S. there are eighty-five million com puters in businesses and about that many in homes. Using these techniques with the right research, we guess they could get as many as fifty million computers. It would do at least one hundred billion dollars in damage and send the stock market plummeting.'
Jacob went on to describe how the virus would systematically destroy a computer system, step by step, and the tech niques it would employ. Sam got the idea quickly and, in fact, had imagined such things himself, just never with Jacob's morbid precision.
'So the upshot,' Jacob concluded, 'is that a good virus would in the end go through a comprehensive erase routine while it was showing the operator a virus protection screen that indicated an ongoing virus scrub-you feel good while they sodomize your computer. In about a third of the ma chines we examined, the motherboard would also become inoperable.'
'So, they really could kill hardware that would take days or weeks to replace?'
'Afraid so.'
In the end, though, Sam suspected that it was really the killing of people that Gaudet intended. The computers would be a means to that end.
He took a minute to call Jill's boy, Chet, to talk about fishing, the girl next door, the next big asteroid to pass Earth, the latest German gun, and what they might do next summer on the camping trip. It was good to think about everybody being around next summer.
Chapter 9
A maiden brings more dreams than a night in the sweat lodge.
'I like to work alone,' Gaudet said.
'We just burned down Northern Lights,' Trotsky said in a rare display of impertinence. 'These people aren't dummies. Stealth and brains won't be enough.'
'I don't disagree. We will need more bodies. We need Raval almost as much as we need Bowden and the journals. And I'd really like to get Sam out of the game, for once and for all. If I find Bowden, I may find Sam and end that part of the matter. Raval, who knows? The aunt's gotten us nowhere. I suppose the journals are priority one. I watched Bowden's face when I had the girl. He'd trade that journal for the girl. And I'd bet the stuff about the sponge is true. But where are the journals? Cornell University? Maybe. That's the ques tion.'
Trotsky nodded and sat back.
They were in the Waldorf-Astoria. Gaudet liked traditional places such as this. All the furnishings were quality, even if older, and in the restaurants downstairs the service was ri diculously attentive. It seemed there were as many waiters as patrons. He and Trotsky dressed as a couple of ugly old women when they went to the restaurants. Normally, they used room service and only Trotsky had to play the part.
'If we are correct and Bowden will come to New York, how many associates could we use here?'
'We can't use the men involved in Cordyceps. Can we?'
'No. We can't compromise that.'
'I'll make the calls.'
'You have almost no accent. I need for you to do something else as well.'
Although Gaudet had spent almost all his life as a con tract killer, he had taken care to acquire or steal legitimate business interests and now had a small empire. Trotsky and a man who worked for Trotsky did all the day-to-day management.
Gaudet had been listening in when Trotsky, claiming to be a journalist, phoned the assistant to Bowden's editor at his publishing house. Before the call Gaudet had done his homework and had found out that a writer- usually-would know his editor better than anyone else at the publishing company. If it was a senior editor, such as Rebecca Toussant, then she would have an assistant. These helpers often knew more than they were supposed to tell. In this case the young woman, Sherry Montgomery, had stuck to the script but sounded nervous at the name Michael Bowden. The denial that she knew anything of Michael Bowden's whereabouts was casual and studied, so there was no way to be certain that they were expecting a visit from Bowden. But in Gaudet's mind it was a reasonable bet. He had heard something in that young woman's voice, and when he played the tapes, he heard it again.
Gaudet then contacted a literary agent and explained that he was a French journalist researching the American publish ing scene. After a half hour or so of interviewing the agent, Gaudet learned that if a big author like Bowden came to New York, there might be a book signing at the downtown Barnes amp; Noble. Such arrangements were normally made months in advance but could be made on much shorter notice if the number of books that could be sold were significant.
Trotsky called the community events person at the mid- town Manhattan Barnes amp; Noble and advised them that he had it on good authority that Michael Bowden was coming to New York and might do a signing. The lady reported that she knew nothing of any such signing but would check with the publisher. Trotsky explained that he would call back if they would be so kind as to check out the rumored signing. Next Gaudet had Trotsky make a similar call to a New York Times reporter at the arts desk, who also promised to check out the story.
The next day Trotsky called Rebecca Toussant's assistant.
'We understand that Bowden's signing is on the twenty- second.'
'I don't know anything about a signing. People keep talk ing about it… but I don't know… but he won't be here until… Well, if he were to come… Actually, I really don't know anything about Mr. Bowden's schedule. We haven't heard from him in weeks.'
'Well, I appreciate that. He is from the Amazon.'
'He certainly is.'
'Well, thanks anyway and good day.'
Trotsky had done well. Clearly, Bowden was due in New York and the girl even knew when. That meant Sam
