An Ecology of MInd (3 page)

Wendy gave the cab driver her address, and the cab pulled out into Washington's traffic.

She worried about her brother and tried to think of something she could do but could not come up with any solution or plan better than Kim had offered. She
was probably right that following what she was told and getting the code would not save her brother. She hoped Kim could do something but realistically,
what could Kim do? But what else was Wendy to do? She didn't seem to have a workable alternative.

She thought about Kim. Kim was by far the best computer person she had ever met. When she programmed she did it entirely in her head, even large complex
programs. She could write the most complicated program in her head and then enter it directly into the computer as quickly as she could type and that was
damn fast. She also programmed in machine language, preferring not to use compilers and other programming tools. When Wendy had a chance to think about it,
she was not shocked that Kim said she had been in the NSA systems before, but she hoped she would not end up in jail over some of her computer activities.

She thought of her brother Don, and didn't think of much else the rest of the ride home.

After seeing Wendy safely packed into the taxi, Kim started right away on trying to fulfill her promise to her.

Accessing the NSA computer system was easy for her. The first time she had accessed the system a number of years ago, she had made a number of pathways and
entrances for future access. Kim was quickly able to locate Wendy's computer and the code that was at the centre of the problem. She could see why Wendy
had been stumped. She had looked at it assuming it was computer code like she was used to. Wendy assumed it was just encrypted in some way and missed what
she was actually looking at. Almost every computer expert on the planet would have done the same thing. Instead, the code was something else entirely.

For one thing, what they had was incomplete. It was also not meant for a conventional computer, and its structure was totally different because of that. It
appeared to be a portion of an operating system. Crude, by Kim's coding standards, but this portion of the overall operating system seemed workable.

The code gave her a good idea of the scale and complexity of the hardware it was written for. Again, by her standards, it was very crude.

She left a message on Wendy's computer explaining what the code was. Kim then exited the NSA system.

Next, she accessed Washington's system of traffic cameras. She quickly located a camera that showed the street in front of Morrell's restaurant. Hacking
into systems like these was not nearly as easy as it was shown in movies. Movies had to simplify things for plot and time constraints. She was not your
regular hacker though and her computer access was anything but normal. The usual and conventional rules did not apply.

Kim moved to the video for the time they had been at the restaurant and watched a man exit the restaurant and get into a waiting car that quickly drove
away. It was too far for the camera to pick up good details, so she enhanced the image. She noted the manufacturer of the car and the license plate number.
She then focused on the man and enhanced the image as much as she could. Other than seeing that he was Asian, she could not get a clear enough image to be
much help.

A check on the Department of Motor Vehicle database gave the name and address of the owner. She had thought it would probably be a stolen vehicle but the
owner was also Asian, so maybe not.

Returning to the traffic cameras, she tried to trace the route of the car. By checking the files for video from the different cameras and noting the time
stamps, she tracked the vehicle west until it left the downtown area and area of coverage by the traffic system. She couldn't use the cameras to trace it
any further.

Well, it was a good start. She would just have to use her own resources to get the rest of the way. At least, she had a time and general direction to
narrow it down a bit.

Hopefully, she was quick enough. Wendy was counting on her in this. She did not have a lot of close friends, and she tried to protect them. This was not a
matter she would normally give a damn about. Spies would constantly play their spy games, and she seldom cared or interfered, but whoever did this made a
colossal mistake when they picked a friend of hers to threaten. They would have had no idea how big a mistake it had been, but they would get an idea soon.

THE BLACK LIMOUSINE PULLED SLOWLY up to the curb in front of the Harvard Faculty of History and came to a stop. A uniformed driver got out and walked
around to the rear right passenger door and opened it. The passenger handed a leather carry-on bag and a cardboard tray with three cups of coffee in the
cup holders to the driver.

Dr. Michael Pearson got out of the car clutching a paper bag with a half dozen assorted donuts in it. He was a well dressed dark-haired man in his mid
thirties. He appeared to be fit and was handsome in a slightly rugged way with a mild tan.

"Thanks Dave. I didn't want to spill the coffee, and it was a bit much to handle getting out of the car."

He took back the carry-on bag and put it in the hand with the bag of donuts.

"So have fun on your fishing trip Dave."

"Thanks, I plan to. It's actually a combination fishing and poker trip."

Michael laughed, "I've seen you play poker; you probably should fish more."

"Hey, I usually do okay at poker," said Dave with a slightly hurt expression on his face.

"If you say so. Just have a good time. You deserve the break. I left a box in the trunk with an assortment of booze for you and your buddies to have some
drinks on me."

"Thanks boss, that's incredibly nice of you. Is there anything you need me to do before I leave for the trip?"

"Nope, I'm good. You're free and clear to go. See you in a few days."

"You sure you don't need a hand carrying that stuff?"

"I'll be fine." He took the cardboard tray with the coffee cups and headed towards the main doors of the building. Dave watched him for a few seconds to
make sure he didn't need help and then got back in the car and drove off to go home and pack up his stuff for the fishing trip.

When Dr. Pearson reached the main doors, he transferred the coffee tray to the other hand with the carry-on and donuts. It was awkward but he only had to
hold it long enough to pull the door open and then took the coffee back with his free hand. He walked down the nearly empty halls and repeated the process
on the rest of the doors he encountered until he reached an office with a name plate "Dr. C. Wales, Dept. Head, History Dept.." Repeating the coffee
balancing act one final time he opened the door and went in.

The secretary was behind her desk and looked up from the computer she was working at. She looked to be in her early sixties, but she had been the secretary
here when Michael was a student, and she still looked about the same. Her stern face broke into a half smile when she saw who was invading her territory.

"Good morning Mrs. Gibson. How are you this fine morning?"

"I'm good thank you Dr. Pearson. You look like you have an awkward load, do you need a hand?"

"No, I'm good. I've reached my destination. Is the big guy in yet?"

"Yes, he said to send you in when you got here."

"Great, I have some gifts for you first though, so he can wait."

"I'm hoping you are referring to one of those coffees you have there."

"Of course, and your choice of a selection of donuts too."

"Thank you. I missed my morning coffee, but I will pass on the donut offer."

Michael shrugged and smiled. "More for us then. I just got back from a trip to Japan, and I brought you something else though."

Mrs. Gibson looked surprised but intrigued. "Really? You shouldn't have done that."

Michael put down the carry-on and set the donuts on the desk. With a flourish, he placed one of the coffees in front of Mrs. Gibson. He set the tray down
on the corner of the desk. "Nonsense, I saw it and thought of you right away." He bent down, opened the carry-on and took out a small box wrapped in tissue
paper and presented it to her.

"Thank you very much, what is it?"

"Open it and see. I know you have a large collection of tea cups, and I thought this might make a nice addition."

Mrs. Gibson un-wrapped the tissue paper and opened the small box. She gently took out the tea cup and saucer and lifted it up. The cup was in shades of
blue and dark grey. There were two dragons curling around the outside of the cup, that were not just painted on but actual small raised sculptures. The
saucer had the same raised dragon decorations.

Mrs. Gibson said slowly, "Thank you, it's ... very exotic."

Michael laughed. "The word you are looking for is hideous. Personally, I like the dragon patterns, and they are central to much Asian art but I know you
are more culturally used to tea cups with flowers and birds on them. I didn't buy it for you because of the dragons and no, they were not meant as a
comment on how you guard the office here. Tip the cup so you are looking into it and hold it up to the light."

Mrs. Gibson looked at him questioningly but did so. "Oh my! There is a woman's face in the bottom of the cup when you have the light pass through it."

"Yes, the salesperson said that instead of signing their work with a signature the artists put their face in the bottom of the cups they make by having
varying thicknesses of ceramic that let different amounts of light pass through. The differences in the brightness and shadow give you the face. I don't
know if it was just a story he made up for tourists, but I saw a few other cups, and they all had different faces in them."

The surprise and the novelty of seeing the face in the bottom of the cup had transformed the cup in Mrs. Gibson's mind from a hideous piece of pottery that
she was trying to be polite about into a fascinating piece that would take a place of prominence and pride in her collection. "Thank you so much Michael.
I've never seen anything like it. I'm going to do some research on cups like this when I get home. I've never even heard of putting the artists face in
china like that."

"You are very welcome. I should go see the big guy now. You know how impatient he gets."

"Yeah, right," snorted Mrs. Gibson. "You were always the impatient one, but go on in."

Michael picked up the donuts, carry-one and remaining coffees and entered the office of Dr. Chris Wales, leaving Mrs. Gibson looking at her new tea cup in
the light. "Hi Chris, I brought coffee and donuts."

Dr. Wales stood up from behind his desk and came to welcome Michael. "Great, you didn't have to do that. How was your last round of travel?"

"It went well but I should be home now for the next month or so. If it's okay I'll leave my bag here in your office until after the seminar."

"Sure. Here, let me put it in the corner for you. I got your email with the list of things you wanted for the seminar, and they are all ready and in place.
Some were different from the last seminar you gave, so you must have made some changes."

"I have a whole new presentation. Have to keep changing it so people don't get bored."

"Oh. I'm sure it will be great as always, but I really liked that section you had last time comparing the principles of governance and military command of
Julius Caesar with what is common today."

"Thanks Chris, but no, it's all new. You videotaped the last two seminars anyway so you can use them any time you want."

"True. It looks like Nora and Cody will be able to join us at dinner tonight Michael. They are both looking forward to seeing you again."

"Great, the feeling is mutual. I really should cut back on how much I travel. I miss seeing all of you."

"It should be a decent turn out for your seminar. I reserved a larger lecture hall and opened it up to people outside of first-year history again. It
seemed to work well the last time. I hope that's fine with you."

"Sure, the more the merrier. Are you still fine to act as my assistant for the seminar?"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world Michael."

"Do we have time to have our coffee and donuts before heading over to the hall?"

"Absolutely. Got any apple fritters?" smiled Chris.