Palm Sunday (21 page)

She followed his lead. “Very well. How long have you worked for the agency, Mr. Slocum?” She glanced quickly at the open folder on the table in front of her.

“About ten years. But you already knew that. How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been here fifteen years. What do you like the most about your job?”

Slocum leaned back against the wall. The game was on. “That’s hard to say. I enjoyed the freedom of working alone, the independence, I guess you could say.”

“So you don’t like working as part of a group?”

“Not really. I have my way of doing things, and if I have to worry about others, I might miss something.”

“Miss something?”

“Yeah,” said Slocum. “Like maybe a client is holding back on me, or a situation has changed in some subtle way. I have to notice those things.”

“And you feel that depending on others degrades that sense of …”

“It’s an awareness,” he offered. “Maybe you’d call it street smarts. I don’t know. But being part of a group takes the edge off.”

She watched him thoughtfully, and looked again at her folder. “Tell me about the night you were mugged.”

“I thought you weren’t interested in those details.” He smiled.

“I’m not. I want to know how you felt at being overpowered. It must have bothered someone like you, with your street smarts and all.”

Slocum laughed. “You are good! Yes it did bother me. I was taken by a couple of punks like it was my first day on the job. What can I tell you? It happens.”

“So you got mugged, they took all your stuff, and you ended up in the hospital. Did they treat you okay?”

“In the hospital? Sure. They patched me up fine, but I did leave without checking out. I hope that didn’t inconvenience them.”

She ignored his sarcasm. “You know there’s no record of your visit to the hospital.”

He thought for about this for a moment. “That’s right. I destroyed my chart before I left.”

She wrote something in the folder. “Why didn’t you come back to the agency immediately after you left the hospital?”

“I called in as soon as I could.”

“I see,” she said. “Do you feel you were treated fairly by the agency?”

“In the beginning, yes. But then something happened–I’m not sure what it was–that turned them against me. The treatment has been somewhat less hospitable since then.”

“And now here you are.”

“It’s not quite as simple as that,” said Slocum. “But yes, here I am.”

Kayoko asked him directly. “Where’s your palmtop, Mr. Slocum? You know that’s all they want.”

“I’m pretty sure I told the doctors all about it. Didn’t you speak with them?”

“What does ‘Bozo’ mean to you?”

“Wasn’t he a clown?” said Slocum.

Kayoko smiled at him through the bars. “Yes. But I don’t think that’s who we’re talking about, is it?”

Slocum leaned towards her, the handcuff pulling against his shackled wrist. “Can I ask you something?”

“Absolutely.”

His demeanor abruptly changed. In a flash he went from pleasant cordiality to undisguised hostility. “What do you want from me?” he shouted. “A confession? What is it that you think I’ve done?” The chain pulled taught as he lunged towards Kayoko, screaming unintelligibly.

Pampas heard the yelling and jogged down the hall to see what was happening. “Is there a problem?”

“No.” Kayoko had backed away from the bars. “I’m finished for now. I’ll probably want to speak with him again later.” She looked at Slocum. “Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation.” He didn’t answer. Kayoko nodded to Pampas and walked down the hallway with him to the elevator. She had some serious thinking to do about Robert Slocum. 

Kayoko sat alone in the conference room, mulling over what she would tell Mason. She knew that he expected her to reinforce the findings of the doctors, that Slocum was a traitor. He would be surprised when she expressed reservations.

The others arrive a few minutes later, taking the same seats as in the earlier meeting.

“Here we are again,” said Mason. As the room quieted, he looked at Kayoko. “Well, how was your chat with Mr. Slocum?”

Kayoko didn’t waste any time. “Based on my discussion with Robert Slocum, I have to conclude that he’s more confused than traitorous.” The doctors shook their heads in disgust, and Pampas just stared at her, expressionless.

Mason pressed her. “Are you saying that one conversation with an expert at deception provided you with better information than our doctors could extract under chemical interrogation?”

She glanced quickly at the doctors, then back at Mason. “I wasn’t privy to the doctors’ proceedings. And I’m not saying that Slocum’s not a traitor, only that he really is confused about what we’re doing to him.”

One of the doctors interjected. “Slocum confirmed that he was working with others. If you’re right, why would he provide such information? He couldn’t make that up while he was drugged.”

“I don’t know,” said Kayoko. “Maybe he was answering as truthfully as he could, but the questions didn’t make sense. Perhaps you assumed some things without waiting for objective confirmation.”

“You have training in pharmacological interrogation?” asked the doctor.

She had crossed the line by implying that they had failed in some way. Now they would try to make her look foolish.

“No. And I won’t presume to tell you how to do your job. But Robert Slocum doesn’t know why he’s being treated like a criminal, and if he doesn’t know that, how can he be a traitor?”

“You have no idea how cagey this man is. You talk to him for an hour and he’ll have you believing that you’re the traitor.”

“I’m not that gullible, Doctor, and I am trained in evaluating human behavior. Mr. Slocum may be cagey, and he may be a very capable agent, but I can tell you this–he’s not lying when he says he doesn’t understand what’s happening.” She turned to Mason. “I’d like to continue to evaluate Mr. Slocum, and I think he should be accorded a bit more humane treatment.”

Pampas spoke up for the first time. “You treat him like that and he’ll think he’s won. Then you’ll never get anything out of him. Besides, it will only strengthen him and allow him to fight us harder.”

Kayoko glared at him, irritated by the simplistic thinking that motivated his type. She wanted to shout at him, but knew it would do no good. Her only hope of securing better treatment for Slocum was through a well-reasoned presentation to Mason. Strangely, she didn’t know why she felt so strongly about it. Perhaps, she thought, it was because of the increasingly dangerous course that the agency was following, of which she disapproved. Or maybe it was because she was a crusader of sorts, always standing up for the underdog. Then she realized that the answer was far simpler. She believed Robert Slocum.

“Follow up on the information that the doctors provided,” Mason said to Pampas. “Bring in some of the people they identified, along with Whipple.”

“I’m on it.”

Mason turned his attention to the doctors. “Do you think with the drugs you could learn more from Slocum?”

“We’d have to take it to another level. He didn’t provide much as it is, and now he’ll have built up some resistance.”

“What’s the down side?”

“We might kill him.”

Mason chuckled. “Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I am serious. We could kill him. These drugs are potent, and Slocum’s no spring chicken. He already had an overdose of that designer drug, then we hit him with a barrage of deep level chems, and right now he’s pretty strung out. If you want me to guarantee his survival, I’d say give him two or three days rest and some decent food.”

Mason considered this. “We’ll hold off on further chemical interrogation for now. George, if you get Whipple in here he may provide some information to bounce off Slocum.”

Kayoko cleared her throat. “May I continue to interview Slocum?”

“How’s it looking for the next profile?” asked Mason.

She was astounded that he expected the profile to proceed on schedule. “As well as can be expected without the participation of the computer center.”

“Very well, then. Just keep trying to gain Slocum’s confidence.” He looked around the table. “If there’s nothing else, we’re adjourned.” 

It was late, and while Bobby slept soundly in one of the two extra bedrooms, Stanley and Katherine poured carefully over the data they had downloaded earlier.

“Did you notice anything unusual about the header in the log file?” asked Katherine.

Stanley looked up from his display, where he was studying a copy of the same information. “There’s something vaguely familiar about it.”

Katherine absently ran her fingers through her hair as she studied the file. “It’s definitely not part of the message itself. Some kind of coded key?”

“Could be,” said Stanley. “But it’s nothing I’m familiar with. It doesn’t look like any of the commonly used encryption schemes.”

“Would you expect it to?”

He paused. “No. Those methodologies are too well documented. Someone with enough processing power could break it. This would be home grown, and more complex.”

“I wonder if they use the same process going the other way,” said Katherine.

“What do you mean?”

Katherine leaned towards Stanley, excitement written on her face. “It could be that it’s exactly what you said–a key–and maybe we can use it to open the gate to their kingdom.”        Stanley wasn’t sure. “I don’t know. Even if you’re right, we don’t have the equipment here to deal with whatever protocols we might encounter once we got in.”

Katherine looked at the collection of hardware that had gotten them this far. “I’m afraid you’re right about that. But we can’t bring much more back from work.”

“Actually, I was thinking of something else.” Stanley had a peculiar look on his face.

“What? What do you have in mind?” asked Katherine.

“There’s only one way.” He stared intently into her eyes. She melted. “We’ll have to bring the palmtop to work, hook up the frequency generator to establish a link to the data stream, and somehow interface the Alpha Server with it.” The Alpha was ScanDat’s main computer, and was optimized for the work they were doing with the Internet.

“Don’t you think your plan is missing a few details?”

Stanley smiled at her. “I can’t do all the work.”

Katherine considered his idea. She leaned her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand. “You’re thinking that the Alpha’s interpreter can keep pace with whatever we encounter in the agency’s system?”

“Assuming we get that far.”

“We’ll have to use the interface from the project to make it work.”

“I know,” said Stanley. “And it will have to run in reverse.”

Katherine laughed out loud. It was a robust, genuine sound, and Stanley liked it. “You do know that this has no chance of working,” she said. “And we’re both going to get fired, right?”

“There’s a statistical probability of ninety-seven per cent that you are correct. But I feel like I’m in it too deep to back off. As for our jobs,” he shrugged. “I can find another job, and so can you.”

“I’m with you, Stanley. Of course, there is one other problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Boyd. We’ll have to distract him while we run our experiment.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” said Stanley. “If Boyd or Klugman ask what we’re doing, we’ll just say we’re running some tests.”

“Pretty weak.”

“Hopefully we won’t need a fallback.”

“Hopefully,” agreed Katherine. “When do you think would be the best time to do it?”

“Boyd and Klugman both do lunch at one o’clock. That will probably be our only chance.”

Katherine started to disconnect the equipment. “Stanley?”

“Yes?”

“If Slocum isn’t back by tomorrow afternoon, we have to do something.”

“I know. I’m just not sure what,” said Stanley.

Katherine finished with the equipment, and stretched her arms out. “I’m tired. Guess I’ll be heading home.”

“Why don’t you stay here?” said Stanley. “There’s enough room, and I’m sure you don’t feel like driving home at this hour.”

Katherine looked around the apartment, then at her watch. “You wouldn’t mind? You don’t think Slocum would mind?”

“I’m sure it’s okay. You can use the other bedroom, and I’ll sleep on the couch. You can stop by your place in the morning, if you want.”

“Thanks. I’m dead tired. I think I will stay. But I’ll take the couch.” She could see he was about to object. “That’s final. No way you’re sleeping on the couch because of me.”

He knew she wouldn’t change her mind. “Okay.” He laughed. “Let’s put this stuff over by the door so we don’t forget it in the morning.” He gestured towards the gear from ScanDat, and the palmtop. Together they moved the equipment to the kitchen counter, next to the door. A cabinet hung out over the counter, and after Katherine set her stuff down, she rose up, banging her head.

“Ow!” She grabbed the back of her head.

Stanley instinctively stepped closer, and reached his hand towards her head. He almost poked her in the eye.

“I’m sorry!” said Stanley.

“No, no. That’s okay.” Their eyes met, and as Katherine slowly lowered her hand from her head, Stanley stepped forward. He leaned towards her, and she moved closer to him, tilting her head back, and closing her eyes.

When their lips touched, Katherine felt as though they were alone in the world. She put her arms around him, and he held her tightly. The kiss lasted only a moment, but seemed like forever. Then their lips parted, and Katherine found herself staring into those beautiful eyes.

“Katherine, I…”

“Don’t say anything, Stanley. We’ll take it one day at a time.” He squeezed her tenderly, and kissed her on the forehead. Then he let go, and they separated.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Katherine.”

“Good night, Stanley.” She was still smiling when she finally fell asleep. 

At work the following morning Stanley and Katherine worked feverishly to implement their plan. Writing a computer program on the Alpha to deal with a known communications protocol would be difficult enough, but anticipating what they might encounter inside the agency’s system made it a monumental task. It was like trying to design a translator without first knowing what language would be used.