Maxwell Huxley's Demon (2 page)

“Understandable because I know what I am.
I discovered early that mutations only solve for specific needs. You could be fast or strong but probably not both. The cost for both is too high.
Others were created for speed, agility, empathy, strength.
”
B
eing reminded of playing sports always gets my hackles up.
“What question are you asking?
What am I spending my time on ? Why are my scores down?
Or do I know why I suck at sports?
”

Max continues without waiting for an answer . “I have a question for you?
This table is 150
centimetres long , on it lies my pe rformance file , which is 23
centimetres wide —every time I come in here the right edge of the file is always 38.5 centimetres a way from the edge of the table.
That makes the folder sit in the most pleasing position for the human eye.
T
he table itself is placed on a Rule-of-Thirds intersection point within this room, just like your desk is.
T
he cell phone that you leave tethered to your laptop every night, also placed on a Rule-of-Thirds.
My questi on is: at what age where you diagnosed with OCD
?
”

Max can see he hit a nerve.
The scar above Dr .
Concilian ’s ear turn s a deeper red , and he hesitates before speaking again .
“My question is what are you sp e nding your time on?”

“Software.”

“
OK
. . . I only ask because it’s imp ortant to keep your scores up, ” Dr. Concilian says.
“What kind of software?
”

“I’m making a virus.”
This blunt answer gives Max some time to think about his scores.
Why are my performance scores suddenly important?

“Interest ing . . . I assume Dr.
Svengaard approved this?”

“No, but it is based on his work.
I started coding a framework , my platform, after the first lecture I had with Dr.
Svengaard . I was five . He spoke to us about hacking and software intrusion techniques. He got some of us hooked on coding, gaming, attacking, and d efending.
I saw the patterns. I saw what I needed. I made it. Like most software s cientists, Dr.
Svengaard says, ‘
A software tool is useless unless it’s scalable. To-date, no one has made hack ing scalable. T
his is your job.’
So I did that, I just never shared it with him .
”

“
I’m writing a virus that will imbed itself into the security systems of this, this . . . what should I call this place .
. . a prison, a school, a lab?
Anyway , the virus will imbed itself and the n disable the security systems.
Then I’m going to walk out while you watch me .
”
Max starts to feel his mind speeding up, thoughts accelerating, providing more focus.
But he also feels the edge, the void. T
he place where and when his mind slide s out of control.

“I see . . .
and may I ask when this escape is going to happen?”

“This Saturday morning at 5
AM
.”
Trust.

“Maxwell . . . you know this isn’t true.
We’ve talked about this before.
You’re g oing to work yourself up again.
Remember what happens when you do this.
I know you don’t want that.”

Max si t s in silence.

“I worry about you.
” Dr. Concilian sighs. “
Your scores are down.
You wo n’t tell me what you are doing.
I see you working yourself into a bad place again.
”

“What happens to the ten -year-olds ?
”
Max asks.

Dr. Concilian doesn’t answer the question, but instead says, “Alright, Maxwell . . . come see me if you need anything , and I’ll talk to you again in about a week.

“What happened to Connor and Ian —and Rachel —and Chris!?” Max asks .

Silence.

Max rises. Frustrated.
“What about Keith, he’s about my age; will he ever get out of solitary ?”

“Max.” Dr. Concilian rises and looks Max in the eyes . “There are time s when you are going to discover . . .”
He walks to his bookshelf and turns his back on Max. “ . . . that things are not always what they seem. You can go back to class now.”

Max leaves.

Dr. Concilian sighs.

---

Dr. Concilian moves to his desk and adjusts his cell phone, moving it a fraction to the right and smiling . He walks out the side door of his office directly into his private chambers, taking Max’s file with him, updating it and reminding himself how much he hates final exams.
Before he closes the file he notes that Max’s real overall score s have climbed into the 99
.9 percentile, tied for top honours .

---

Walking back to the classrooms, M
ax’s thought s wander to the past, t o a time when he and Keith first started to bend the rules.

They stole down this same corr idor in the middle of the night, p ausing in classroom doorways and poking their heads around each cor ner before moving on. They headed to the mechatronics lab.
Keith stopped and held his hand up. Max stopped. They listened. All Max could hear was Keith giggling.

“Goof, ” Max said .

“
Goofier,” Keith replied and then began moving forward again. Reaching the lab, Keith started taking screws out of the high security lock.
Max leaned against the wall and kept lookout.
W
hat would I do if someone came along?
We’ve nowhere to hide and nowh ere to run.
Keith pulled the cover off the lock and spliced wire i nto electronics inside the lock mechanism. After a minute or so , Max heard the lock click open. They both slipped inside the lab .

“I can’t believe we’re doing this, ” Max said.

“We need some of our own tools . .
.
Hey. E
ver wanna se e what Hanson keeps in his desk?
” Keith moves behind a desk at the front of the lab.

Max felt uncomfortable even seeing Keith behind the de sk. “Don’t.
Coming in to get equipment we need is one thing. Snooping in Dr. Hanson’s desk is another.
”

“Alright . . .
wuss . Let’s get what we came for.” They both move d over to the supply cabinets. Keith picked the simple cabinet locks in seconds. “Two brick power supplies, solder, solderi ng iron, wire . . .” Keith handed t he supplies back to Max who put them in backpack s . In another minute , two backpacks were full , and they had what they need ed .

The boys head ed to the door to leave the lab. Max pulled the door open and stared at the outline of a man, t oo dark to make out much detail.
M
ax cried out , dropped a backpack, fell backward, grabbed Keith and pulled him down with him.

The light s ca me on. The boys saw Dr. Hanson looking down at them laughing.
“
My, my, boy s . . . am I really that frightening?”

Minutes later, Dr. Hanson sat at his desk. Keith and Max stood facing him . Both boys stared intently at their feet.
“You boys, put all this back.
” Dr. Hanson gestures at the stolen supplies spilled over his desk.
“
I want my lab back the way it was before you came in here.” Max and Keith hurr ied to put everything away.

“
Two things boys . . .
O
ne, if you’d asked me , I would’ve signed out what you wanted and let you have it .
Two, ” Dr. Hanson pointed around the lab.
“
Motion sensors, door sensors, heat sensors, video cameras. I’m disappointed in both of you . Not because you broke in here, b ut because you broke in , and it only occurred to you to pick the lock. We’ve talked about this in class. You have to consider all aspects of a security system and disable them all before considering an intrusion.
E
ven the lock had a sensor on it. A s soon as it opened at this time of night , it triggered an alarm . What about fingerprints , did you consider fingerprints?
If you had made it out , don’t you think we would have looked for fingerprints on the lock mechanism that you so conveniently left hanging by some wires in the corridor so that we would know where to look for fresh prints?
” Dr. Hanson stood up. Max heard footsteps in the corridor outside the lab.

“The worst part,” Dr. Hanson continued. “Is that the security systems that caught you , informed quite a few people .”

Dr. Concilian entered the lab with two security guards following him.
“Max,” Dr. Concilian said, “you’re with me. Keith , you follow the guards.”

---

Thinking about that day while walking to Dr. Hanson’s lab , Max still doesn’t understand why they punished Keith and not him .

Max walks past lab after lab. Physics, chemistry, robotics, material science, biology, each one filled with kids engaged in advanced practical experiments. He hears a sound and looks behind.
Indigo , one of the six-year-olds, approaches. Max waits for him.

They walk the long hallway together, their footsteps echoing along the smooth walls and polished stone floor .
Max asks Indigo why he’
s out of class.
Indigo tells Max he was at the clinic.

Max looks o ver at Indigo . “Right, your cast is gone. Does your arm feel weird now?” Even though Max is three years older tha n Indigo , Max is not much taller.
Max can tell that when Indigo gets older he will be another of the kids who is faster and stronger than him.

“
Ya , a bit .”
Indigo scratches at the recently exposed skin.
“So why are you out of class?”

“Dr. C.” Max shrugs. T
hey scan through a set of door s and continue past more labs. Metal working, wood working, weapons manufacture . . . The end of the corridor is still a long way forward. A window , bright with sunlight , frames the end of the hallway , m any more labs and classroom s line the hall .

“What class you going back to?”
Indigo asks.

Max points at a door on their right. “Mechatronics.”

“
I’m back to Self Defense . See ya , Max.”

“See ya , Indigo .” Max presses his hand on a scanner and pauses .
I can’t stay. I can’t.
It only takes one Raven.