Mad Worlds Collide (12 page)

Johnson answered the call about Joey canceling his vacation.  "Joey, are you sure about this?" Johnson asked.  "Why?"  Be careful what you say Joey.  If the threat is real, you are being tracked.  Keep the stories about Dad straight with the Major. "I wasn’t feeling well, Major, so I cancelled yesterday. I had a fever but I’m fine now. Anyhow, I was thinking that if I got the work done sooner, the agency would let my leave sooner and I could take the vacation later when the weather back home is nicer."

"Well that’s your choice, I’m stuck here regardless doing nights.  Are you sure the nights are OK?"

"Doesn’t really matter much in the cage Major.  We don’t have any windows, so I could care less.  Plus I like talking with you."

"Well thanks, I’ll see you later at the gate. Call me when you get in. My shift starts at eight."

"See you later Major, and thank you."

Once in Building Nine, Joey hid himself away in his corner cubicle, and logged on to his terminal. There were only three others working the night shift and Joey had no idea what the others where doing -- they were working on a need to know basis, not many questions asked. There were lots of servers and satellites to watch. The big job seemed to be system backups and coffee. Joey grabbed a cup from the lounge and stirred in lots of sugar and cream. No milk --Joey liked milk but the small cream capsules were better. And at least the toilet was close by. Major Johnson was in the conference room snoring. The WebTele was on MI-CMM news and the volume was high, but this did not wake Johnson. 

Joey walked back to his desk and logged into an e-mail server he’d specially created. It would work well but not long. The people who hacked the NSA system had to be top crackers.  To fuck up a NSA server like that required a computer virus equivalent to the black plague.

Joey needed something smart and secure. He decided on a program that changed encryption codes like a spread spectrum system. In such a system, a signal is transferred from one frequency to another on what appears to be a random basis, like a person listening to a Rolling Stones song for five seconds at FM channel 94 MHz then  continues on at FM 101.5 for another five seconds and then on to FM 97 and then another frequency and so on. If you don’t know the channel sequence, you’ll never know what channel to switch to. Speed up the switching and you’ll never get to listen to the song. To do this analogy with e-mail required passing the switching code to Robert , without letting the bad guys know the code, or at least keep them in the dark until it was too late.

There was a web site that Robert and Joey had built in college and then abandoned called it CM-HotChat.  Joey and Robert had used it at Carnegie Melon to share computing ideas. It ended up as a dating site for other computer geeks.  Some girls used it for help on chat sessions. Joey always used an old mutual girlfriend’s full name with her old room number to make the code harder to crack. Even if people were listening and found the CM-HotChat site it would take 1-2 minutes to crack in. By that time Joey would have passed the e-mail. They wouldn’t even find the e-mail packets; the encryption codes would have already vanished into thin air. The e-mail contents would be on multiple channels or ports, and already gone. It would look like noise to NSA e-mail snoopers.

Well here goes the job, thought Joey. He called Robert’s cell phone.

Ring…Ring… "This is a prerecorded message.  The current user’s cell is not operating correctly.  Please inform user that cell phone may need repair."  Beep—Beep…

That’s strange, thought Joey. Joey logged on to a secure NSA line (was anything secure anymore?).  Robert was online -- great!  I’m in luck, Obi Wan is on the net!

Joey connected and sent a message:

Joey> Hey is that Obi-Wan Kenobi online?

Robert> Hey is this one of my grad students I should have failed at Carnegie for cheating?

Joey> Now come on, all I did was help out a poor girl who needed some answers.  She was cheating, not me.

Robert> Well I guess on the Dark Side it really doesn’t matter.  How’s it going at the agency?

Joey> As good as the grade you gave me in BioElectronics, how are you doing?

Robert>Funny you ask, my plane almost crashed and Buddy just snuffed out our neighbor’s dog.  Susan had him on sleeping pills. Sometimes wish I was paranoid like you, it might help in this situation.

Joey> Hey cut it out!  My old man calls me a spook and now you’re calling me paranoid!

Robert> I think we’re both right, you’re a paranoid spook.  How’s the girlfriend, are you ever getting married?

Joey> Ah, she’s fine -- pushing for marriage but you know it’s tough.  Are you and Susan ok?

Robert> Yeah, but she’s decided to start writing again.

Joey> Oooh, sorry to hear about that.  How’s MI?

Robert> The job here is pretty fucked.  Thinking of quitting.

Joey> Seems like you’re loaded with good news. Hey, I know this is strange but can you login to another secure server? I’m testing a new e-mail system.

       Robert sat in his new apartment ready for a nap.  It was 6:00 PM in Tokyo, and so had to be about 3:00 AM in Colorado. Kind of strange that Joey was working so late in the US.

Robert>Sure, but what do you have in mind?

Joey> Remember our old college chat room? I still have access and it’s still got our old back door with 4096K ESSL encryption.

Robert> Yeah, that sounds pretty secure.  What’s up?

Joey> I want to test something -- upload an encrypted test page for your review.  I’ll use a packet encrypter with a spread of different codes -- first in gets it all!

Robert> Looks like you have a lot of time on your hand.  I’m glad the government is spending my tax dollars so wisely.

Robert knew the chat had to be Joey.  Only a few in the world besides Robert would have such a twisted take on security.  Wonder what he has on his head, thought Robert.

Robert logged in anonymously, and popped in for the e-mail. Wow, looks like a lot of data, he thought. Robert got in, got the file and killed the net connection quickly, only unencrypting offline. Joey had used a long, long key. Even if they had all the passwords and knew the website backdoor it was a onetime e-mail. There was no way to reconstruct; this was e-mail paranoia at its best. Nice, thought Robert, very nice for a one-time deal. Terrible for a corporate system, but for two techies, really nice.

Joey> Did you get the message?

Robert> Yeah, I’ll read it and get back to you.

Joey> Thanks.  I’ve got to run.  I’ll talk to you later ‘gator…J

Joey sat at his desk thinking about how he and Robert had taken different paths.After Joey graduated he went to the agency and Robert moved to MI. They had stayed friends but years and miles made it tough. Strange how time, Robert’s marriage and a job changes one’s life, thought Joey.

     "Hey what are you up to?" said a voice from behind, startling Joey. Joey turned and saw Major Johnson holding a hot cup of coffee in a large mug that had SAT-ONE with a military emblem.

     "Oh, just chatting with a friend. Been a long time since we met, you know this job seems to take away your life." Joey, you could use a better analogy you dope.

     Major Johnson sat next to Joey, looking like he was in one of those I-don’t-feel like-working moods.

     "Hell boy, you’re young and you don’t even get your hands dirty. Did I tell you about the time I joined the Air Force and what they put me through?"

     "No, I don’t think so."

     "Well, when I started I was only seventeen.  I didn’t have much to do in my hometown so me and my friends joined the Air-Force to get a better life. After my first year I realized that the world was madder than hell.  I should have quit but stayed for thirty-seven years."

     "If it was that bad why did you stay all those years?" asked Joey.

     Johnson drank some coffee and frowned. "I sincerely believed that the world was better off with me helping the Air-Force than without me helping it."

     "Do you still believe it?" asked Joey.

     "Yeah.  I was willing to do something back then most of my friends weren’t willing to do, and then I realized how much one man could help the world."

     "What happened that year?"

     Major Johnson smiled. "If I tell you son, you have to promise me you’ll never tell this story, and if you slip up, don’t use my real name.  My pension is on the line."

     "Mums the word Major."

     The Major went back in time back to when he was eighteen, and had just moved up from no rank (E-1) to Airman (E-2). His new job involved a missile silo test in some cornfield in South Dakota.

Thirty-six years before, Johnson had served under Captain Smith, the man in charge of testing for Silo 112 of South Dakota. Besides Johnson there was a Lieutenant Folley, the engineer in charge of missile systems.

     As the three drove up in their government issued Ford pick-up, Johnson had watched the corn rows flash by like psychedelic strobes.  Dust blew up from the hot summer Dakota sun. The corn looked ready for picking (but wasn’t) and the young Airman tried to make some small talk.

     "Wow, check out all the corn! Wonder if they’ll miss a few ears?  It’s probably ready for picking" said Johnson.

     "Airman Ken Johnson," said Captain Smith, "If I see so much as a corn leaf in your pocket, I’ll have you out here weeding.  We can’t afford trouble out here. You understand what I said, Airman?"

     "Yes Sir, I was just joking, Sir."

     "Well, it’s time to stop joking.  We’ve got one big test today."

     "Yes Sir."

     The other man, Folley watched the corn too. The blanket of green stalks looked healthy. Must have been a good weather this year, he thought. "It’s not ready for picking yet, though.  It looks like the top tassels are having a ball Captain."

     The captain looked over. "What are you talking about, Folley?"

     Folly’s father owned a farm in Idaho and he knew corn like he knew rockets. It was all science. "Well, Sir, if you notice the tops of the stalks, they’re kind of shedding, pollinating actually. They do this for about a week, they’re having sex, Sir."

     The Captain looked at Folley. "If they’re having sex, where’s the girls, Lieutenant?"

     "Well, Sir, the top of the stalk is the male part of the corn stalk and the silk that comes out of the cornhusk is the girl. They have both sexes on one plant but the pollen from the same plant usually pollinates the other plants and not itself.  Otherwise it’s kind of like having sex with yourself Sir."

     "I’ve got a criminal wanna-be and sexual pervertworking with me today!  What will the Air Force think of next?" said Captain Smith. He then laughed.

     The Captain rode up to a square fenced-in area that stood out from the corn. On the fence a sign read:

WARNING

Restricted Area. Use of lethal force authorized. 

     At the gate the Captain inserted his magnetic passcard and spoke into an intercom.   "This is Captain Edward Smith reporting for SAC missile testing. I have a Lieutenant Folly and an Airman Johnson. Request permission to enter."

     The intercom crackled and a voice spoke. "Welcome to SAC silo 112 Captain." The fence opened and a video camera turned toward the vehicle. Captain Smith entered the small thirty yard square compound, stopping the truck near an entrance into the Silo.

     All three men headed into Silo 112 through an above ground hatch. They walked down a hundred feet of stairs. At the bottom, Johnson saw a monster of a rocket. "Wow, that sucker is big! Wonder how far she’ll fly?"

     Folley, who wore really thick glasses squinted, looking up. "Johnson, that there is one hell of a corn stalk.  It’s over eighty feet high, has three stages of solid fuel, flies 15,000 miles per hour and will really fuck up your day if she’s lit."

     "Is she pollinating?" asked Johnson with a smile.

     "If this baby blows her load, she’ll knock out a few towns, like Moscow, Leningrad and maybe even one in Siberia. This Minuteman has multiple missiles -- yeah, she’s pollinating all right."

     Captain Smith walked over. "Cut the chit chat and follow me to the launch room." Johnson walked into a room with two armed officers.  Even though this was a test, the two launch men were always ready in the event of an actual war. Near each desk was a keyhole that said "Launch Key" on top. Both keys had to be turned to launch the system. The men sat waiting for the test. General Keneally’s voice emanated from a speakerphone: "OK men, this test is important.  I’m a busy man so lets get moving. Do we have the Code Generation set to 112-CKMZ?"

     Captain Smith looked at code generation unit. "Yes Sir, we have it set to 112-CKMZ and locked, Sir."

     "Very good," said the General.  "Turn the keys for the test."

     The two men with pistols turned the keys. An alarm started vibrating the walls. A red light flashed and the bay doors covering the missile started to open.

     "Is it supposed to do this?" asked Johnson working at his first test.

     Lieutenant Folley calmly answered. "Yeah, this test looks exactly like an actual launch except for two things. During the thirty-second countdown, while we can still cancel, the system does everything the same as real except it  shows the ‘Missile Launch’ light; instead we get a ‘Missile Test’ light.  Oh, and the missile doesn’t blast off killing millions of Russians, forcing them into a retaliatory strike killing millions of Americans."

     "Oh," said Johnson.   "Then why does that countdown clock over there say: ‘Missile Launch’ and not ‘Missile Test’?"

     Folley wasn’t looking at the countdown. The system said "System Launch" with ten seconds and counting.

     "Turn the test off!" he roared.  "Back off the keys…now!"

     The two men turned off the keys and the silo door above started closing. The red lights went dark.  Decades later, at the Colorado Springs base, Joey watched Major get rattled just telling the story.