Episode LXIV, Part II

We return to our story in progress. Jeff Smark (formerly Frodo Baggins) is still on the loose, and Nightrider is slowly going nuts as she tries to track him down. Without access to the codes inside his head the upcoming budget hearings for Q Lab will not go well and they will not have the finances they need for the upcoming year.

* * *

“Any progress?”

“No. Poe is still searching.”

“Blast. Must I ask every day how hard it can be to track down a penniless bum? I feel like an idiot mindlessly repeating myself. Can we—” The voice broke off into a cry of pain as a door opened and flooded the pitch black closet with bright light.

“Oh, so sorry. I did not know.” The offending janitor beat a hasty retreat as soon as he recognized Nightrider. She could hear him muttering “Don’t disappear me,” as he backed away.

Blackbird rubbed his eyes. “So much for security. Can we what?”

“Divert any other resources to help Poe in his search?”

“Not really. His disappearance was ruled an unsolved mystery, just as you wanted. We can’t very well use official funds to pull him in for questioning.

“Ah, I hate it when you’re right.” Nightrider raised her flask to her lips and took a long pull.

“Look, if he somehow found money I’m sure that he is using cash so we have no way to trace him via a financial paper trail. All we can do is put out probes that will let us know if he uses any accounts that he created using our internet connection. I’m sure Mouse Tail can work on programs to sniff such things out. But on a positive note recruitment is up as you requested. I’ve initiated Geo—”

“Ah, ah! Only code names.”

Unseen in the new darkness Blackbird rolled his eyes before speaking in a normal voice. He would have protested but he was too glad that his distraction had worked. “Bogart, Ali Baba, Dulcinea, and Toucan have all passed their background checks.”

“Very good. Do they have initial assignments yet?”

“No. I wanted to consult with you first,” Blackbird admitted.

“Understood. Send me their dossiers and I’ll get back to you.” Nightrider stood up and led the way out of the closet towards the newly completed Annex lounge. Some wag had already scrawled a sign over the door. The Asylum, Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here

As she walked across the threshold she turned back to Blackbird. “Wait—where did you interview them?”

“Here in the Annex of course. The main systems haven’t been debugged after the weekly sweep yet.”

Nightrider nodded in approval as she filled a clean tumbler with brandy. “Good. The sweep may delay us slightly, but I think that overall it will be beneficial to evaluate our security procedures so frequently. Now, I may want you to keep running the new recruits out of here. If we can get the access glitches worked out soon I definitely want them based here.

“Let me see, was there anything else? Oh yes, how is Damien doing?”

“Quite well actually. We’ve been running him through simulators at quite a rapid rate, and so far he has held together quite well. Of course we may need to develop some new enhancements in the future, but for now we are just awaiting an opportunity for a live fire test.”

“That is excellent news. At least some things around this place are running as planned. Perhaps soon we can start brainstorming more fundraising schemes—Xanga hasn’t come through with anything recently.”

Though momentarily pleased Nightrider soon refilled her glass yet again and slumped back in her chair. Blackbird was concerned to see her drinking so much, but he knew that she was sensitive about the topic and wouldn’t appreciate a query. He was somewhat sure that things weren’t out of control yet and he didn’t want to jump the gun. If he needed to shake her up he wanted it to be for a darn good reason, not just because she’d had a bit much to drink one evening.

“I was married once,” Nightrider offered several minutes later.

“Hmm?”

“Aye. Johan was a nice man.” Her voice trailed off into reflective silence. Though she refilled her glass several more times she didn’t say another word until Blackbird assisted her back to her quarters sometime after three in the morning.

* * *

Jeff didn’t understand his luck. His apartment complex had kicked him out, but the Acid Springs Resort clerk hadn’t batted an eye at his wad of cash. It had taken him a couple days to batter down his security obsessed mind’s objections to staying in a publicly accessible hotel, but eventually comfort had won the argument. He had spent his first day sleeping, trying to recover from a night of driving up and down every street in Daze Springs. Now with time to relax Jeff thought that he could try to contact Gordon again. All of his recent e-mails had bounced and he hadn’t had enough time to decipher the mystery. At last he had both the time and the proper high speed connection. He might have to mess around with quite a few of his e-mail accounts, but he was confident that he could solve the problem.

* * *

Nightrider wasn’t even sure that she wanted to get up. She’d begun chasing her hangovers away with a glass of rum and handful of aspirin, but her body was starting to adjust. Truthfully it only postponed the onset of symptoms, but she had never been a morning person and the extra time was worth the later problems. Another useless day she thought, theorizing that she would spend most of it trying to track down Jeff Smark.

* * *

As part of his new morning routine Jeff’s computer turned on quickly and connected to the resort’s network, but everything went downhill from there. In a matter of seconds after he hit the net his laptop’s memory was maxed out. Instead of panicking Jeff checked the security programs that he had laboriously reassembled—they were all functioning. Then he realized that it was probably Mouse Tail. If anyone could set up a virus that could exploit the very programs sent to defeat it, it would be Q Lab’s computer genius—the one who had designed the programs in question.

The resort had required a valid e-mail to register so that Jeff could receive communications and special offers. The desk clerk said something about it being a procedure instituted because of the low number of staff. Uncertain if all of his hidden accounts still functioned Jeff had supplied an address more closely linked to his real name. He had figured that even if he ignored any advertisements he would want to read any official communications. Jeff wasn’t sure why the office couldn’t just call him, but he had been too tired at the time to argue.

He now bitterly regretted that hasty decision. It took him more than an hour to ensure that his computer and the resort’s network were clean. He even managed to destroy Mouse Tail’s programs before they could report anything substantive back to their master. He had to chuckle when he discovered the names that Mouse Tail had assigned: Nemesis and Paul Jonas. Nobody in Q Lab could give up sci-fi references, even obscure ones.

* * *

This time Blackbird encountered five separate warnings before he met up with Nightrider—and two were from the new recruits. The closer he got the more he felt as though he were on the set of a bad sci-fi flick. Nightrider was acting the part of an evil overlord perfectly—the part of a thwarted and impotent evil overlord that is.

“Why can nobody find him? WHY?!? Is everyone in this department an idiot?” As she ranted Nightrider began to throw small objects from her desk across the office.

Blackbird quickly moved forward and swept the part of the desk directly in front of Nightrider clear of any remaining ammunition. “Calm down!” he barked. After he shut the door firmly he turned around and began to berate the furious woman.

“What on earth are you doing acting like such an idiot? You’ve read the evil overlord list—you’re acting just like a failed despot. Ditch the horrible plot and start acting intelligent. Did you ever work better as an intern when Frodo yelled at you for making a mistake? I remember you telling me that you would never repeat the mistakes he made with you. It looks like never isn’t very long after all. Now you can kick me out like we did to Frodo if you want. But if you don’t then just tell me that you’re ready to start talking rationally and I can sit down.”

Instead of the sobs or sighs that Blackbird half expected Nightrider nodded, sat down, and closed her eyes. After several deep breaths she leaned further back.

“As usual you are my voice of reason, Blackbird. I have allowed this problem to consume too much of my time. Please forgive my actions.”

“Of course, I’ve seen you frustrated before. But I doubt that Dulcinea or Ali Baba has—they’re the ones that might permanently scar.”

Nightrider grinned along with Blackbird. “Your point is well taken. I will of course remember to speak to them later. Now, if you’re done calming me down, is there any news of Jeff?”

“No, Mouse Tail says that he has no idea how far away he is from cracking Jeff’s codes. The problem is that Jeff used much more than a random number generator and innovative passwords. He apparently rewrote sections of Mouse Tail’s programs so that they would better dovetail with other security programs and create nearly unbreakable problems for us. Our best bet for a speedy resolution is to capture Jeff once again. I only wish that we had implanted some form of tracking device in him.”

* * *

Curtis Dangerfield didn’t really practice medicine anymore—he didn’t have time after all of the in (and out of season) fishing expeditions up the river. “Look, I’ll let you look at the X-Ray yourself,” the doctor exclaimed. “But I’ve already examined it three times—there isn’t anything back there that I can see.

“Sure whatever,” Jeff responded dejectedly. He had hoped this appointment would have cleared up his problem—instead he was worrying more. He was now speculating that the supposed tracking system might be built into his body, or into a non metallic frame. Jeff knew it was even a risk coming to Dr. Dangerfield, but he couldn’t stand not knowing. Furthermore he had rationalized that only Dick Lowe should have known of Dangerfield, and even then he didn’t know that the doctor and Jeff were now close friends.

* * *

“We have a lead,” Blackbird reported. “Poe managed to track down a police officer that stopped Jeff from sleeping in his car a few nights ago. He hasn’t been spotted since, so the police are thinking that he skipped out of town—but I’m sure that the car is solid enough. Our people now have the details of the car. If he doesn’t ditch it we should find him eventually. We both know Jeff; he’ll never venture out of Daze Springs until he can come after us.”

“True enough,” Nightrider mused. “Keep me apprised of any further developments.” With that directive she retreated into her office. A well-used dartboard now decorated the wall opposite her desk.

“Curse you Fro—Jeff!” she snarled as she flung several knives and darts towards the board decorated with Jeff Smark’s face. “Everything has been worse since I kicked you out. I still can’t make a profit, because of you. I can’t avoid rules, because of you. I hate you!” Each exclamation was punctured by the hearty thud of steel into wood. Nightrider kept up her rant for at least twenty minutes until she felt just a bit calmer.

She knew that she was letting Jeff get the better of her temper, but on the other hand it was impossible to ignore him. She had thought that her coup would simply remove him from the equation and make life much simpler. Instead it had complicated matters beyond all belief. If she had it to do all over again she mused, she probably would have simply have put up with his idiotic procedures. Anything would be better than the preoccupation that was causing Q Lab’s productivity to grind to a halt. Nightrider would give anything to eliminate Jeff from the picture.

Nightrider glared across the room and picked up her three biggest throwing knives.

“I,” the first thudded into his right eye.

“Hate,” the second blade sliced open his left eye.

“You!” the last blade sank deep into his forehead.

* * *

“I’m coming for you Nightrider,” Jeff murmured. He typed several more lines of code as he mused reflectively. “No rest for the wicked. Hah, I think you’ll really enjoy this new virus.” The former Q Labber grinned evilly as he attached the file to an e-mail he knew Nightrider could never resist opening. Dawn was just breaking as he clicked the send button.

Date: July 04, 2005
From: ninefingers@onering.net
To: Nightrider@QLab.elf
Subject: What can the night
Message: never catch?