Cyber Dawn (A Ben Raine Novel) (8 page)
Read Cyber Dawn (A Ben Raine Novel) Online
Authors: M.L. Adams
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just curious about something.”
She stared at me, then said, “Well, if it’s important, I can ask my mom about it tonight. Maybe she can help.”
“Nah,” I answered. “No big deal.”
“Why don’t you just ask Court?”
Courtney, my oldest sister, was in her second year at medical school. I hadn’t even considered she might know something about accessing patient records. “Uh, yeah. That’s a good idea,” I said. “I’ll give her a call.”
“I’m going to tell her you forgot about her,” Jessica said playfully. “She won’t be happy.”
“Sure, like you don’t forget about Mason whenever possible.”
She laughed. “True.”
After saying goodbye, I made a beeline for the student parking lot. Three minutes later, I was safely in my Jeep and headed home.
Later that night I took Jessica’s advice and called Courtney. Two minutes into the call, I was slowly and methodically bumping my forehead against the top of my desk. She had pretty much told me the same thing the hospital FAQ did. Basically, I wasn’t getting my medical record without my parent’s help.
“So no other way?” I asked.
“I suppose you could steal them,” Courtney said.
I lifted my head and stared at the phone. “Did you say . . . steal them?”
She laughed. “I’m kidding, Ben. But we did review a case in my medical law class where a group of hackers did just that. They broke into a medical office server and stole personal information from patient records. They got a hold of tens of thousands of records before they were caught. It was a pretty big deal.”
“Hmm.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Courtney joked.
“Thanks . . . mom,” I replied.
She laughed again, and asked, “Why do you want your records anyway?”
“No big deal. Just trying to learn more about my cancer. That year of my life is pretty much a blur. Been thinking about it a lot.”
There was dead air for a moment.
“Well, you could interview me,” Courtney said. “I remember it all too well.”
I stared at the picture of my sister on the display of my phone. My battle with cancer and subsequent years at CyberLife had been hard on my family. Especially during the years I lived on the research campus. I had always been close to my sisters. But it was hard to see them during those years and we gradually grew apart. Eventually, Courtney went off to college. Amanda followed a year later.
“Yeah, I bet,” I replied softly.
“You okay, Benjamin?”
“Sure,” I lied. “Why?”
“You sound . . . down.”
I rested my chin on my hands and gazed out the window. I was tired and mentally exhausted. “I’m all right,” I said. “Midterm week, that’s all.”
“I understand that,” she said. “I barely have time to breathe. Every week in med school feels like midterm week.”
“Good point,” I said. “Guess I shouldn’t complain.”
More silence. Finally, Courtney said, “Well I need to run, Benjamin. Have to study. Sorry I wasn’t more help.”
“Nah, it’s good, sis. Glad we could catch up. Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t tell mom I asked about my medical record. You know her, she’ll freak out.”
Courtney laughed. “Definitely. And okay, my lips are sealed.”
12
I couldn’t.
Not even during my years battling cancer and playing lab rat at CyberLife. Then I had one thing to focus on—beating the odds. It gave me clarity. A mission.
Now, in the span of a few short days, so much piled on. I closed my eyes as a series of images cascaded through my mind.
Megan . . .
Dr. Merrick . . .
Detective Frost . . .
Football . . .
Katherine . . .
Midterms . . .
And, of course, the four words I couldn’t get out of my head.
You never had cancer.
Unable to fall asleep, a half-hour later I climbed out of bed and walked down to the kitchen. I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and poured a giant glass of milk. When I returned to my room, the display on my phone was on. I read the message.
You awake?
It was Jessica.
Of course.
I took a bite of my sandwich and waited for a reply.
Talked to my mom. She says you’ll need your parent’s signature. Takes two weeks. Sorry.
Same story from three different sources
, I thought.
So much for the medical record idea.
Thanks Jess.
Did your sister have any ideas?
Sure. Hire a hacker.
LOL. Really?
Yep.
My phone was silent for several minutes. I figured Jessica was studying or getting ready for bed, so I typed a good night message. Before I hit SEND, she texted back.
I know one.
I stared at my phone, then typed:
Know one what?
A hacker.
I waited.
When no
LOL
or
just kidding
message came in, I replied:
Can you meet me outside?
It’s freezing!
Please?
Ok, give me 2.
At ten after eleven, I crept down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the side door of the house. The air was thick with moisture and it was cold. As I climbed the fence, I heard a sliding glass door open and close.
“Hey,” I said, as I landed on the ground a few feet from her.
“Hey,” she said back. “It’s freakin’ cold out here.”
She wore only pajama pants, flip-flops, and a hoodie.
“Well no wonder, dork,” I said. “Here, take my jacket.”
She didn’t argue as I handed it to her.
“So, your text,” I said as Jessica slipped my jacket on. “You know . . . a hacker?”
She shrugged and rubbed her hands together. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I mean, I know of one. But I was kinda kidding Ben. Is this really that important?”
Yes, it’s important.
“I don’t know, Jess,” I said aloud. “Maybe.”
With a sigh, she said, “Well, there is this new girl in my class. Sarah. Rumor has it she’s a hacker. For a price anyway.”
“Really? For money?”
“That’s what I’ve heard,” Jessica answered. “I don’t know her well. She seems nice enough, though. Been my partner in chemistry lab a few times.”
I sighed. I had hoped it was one of Jessica’s good friends. Maybe one I already knew. A total stranger wasn’t part of my plan.
“My toes are freezing,” she said.
I didn’t know what else to say. In fact, I wasn’t even sure why I bothered to come out. Was I really desperate enough to hire a hacker?
You never had cancer.
“So, hypothetically,” I said. “If I wanted to talk to this Sarah girl, how would I find her?”
Jessica rubbed her hands faster and started to bounce in place. “Well, I have lab on Friday. You could stop by before or after class.”
“Anything sooner?” I asked.
“Guess you could email her,” she said. “Or, I think she hangs out in the library a lot. You might find her there.”
“Thanks, Jess. Sorry I brought you out in the cold.”
“It’s fine,” she said, a concerned look on her face. “You sure you’re okay, Ben? All this medical record talk has me worried. Were you hurt on Friday night?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m okay. Just looking into something.”
She stared at me for another few seconds. Had it been warmer outside, I would have gotten the third degree. Instead, she said, “Okay, Ben. But if something isn’t okay, you let me know. Got it?”
“You’ll be the first to know, Jess,” I said. “Now get some sleep.”
We said our good-byes and I climbed back over the fence and went inside. I needed sleep, too, having gotten only a few hours the night before. But my mind continued to race and I knew sleep wouldn’t come easy. While I sat at my desk and worked on the PB&J, I thought about my conversation with Jessica. I put my feet up, leaned back in the chair, and closed my eyes.
Hiring a hacker isn’t an option
, I told myself over and over.
I’m not that desperate.
Right?
“Do you even know how your system works?” Megan asked, a frown on her face.
I stood in the center of her laboratory on the second floor of CyberLife’s main research building. Megan knelt on the floor next to me, using a hex wrench to reattach a titanium panel that protected one of my leg’s electronic circuit boards.
I sighed. I could see the sun setting through the window on the far side of the room. Just another fourteen-hour day of testing and tweaking my cybernetic leg. I was exhausted and not feeling particularly chatty.
“Yoo-hoo, Ben. Wake up.”
I looked down at her and shrugged. “I dunno. A little I guess.”
The truth was, even after five years, I knew next to nothing about the cybernetic part of my body. At least from a technical standpoint. I’d always left those concerns to Megan and the other experts at CyberLife. From my point of view, the system just worked.
Most of the time anyway.
Megan shook her head, and said, “Benjamin, I love you. But sometimes you’re impossible.”
I flushed. I knew she meant it like my parents and sisters meant it. But I never got tired of hearing those words.
“Well guess what,” Megan said as she stood and placed her hands on her hips. “It’s your lucky day. I have a presentation tomorrow to a group of investors. And I need to practice. So you get to hear how your system works.”
I groaned and briefly debated arguing about it. From experience, I also knew that would be a waste of time. More often than not, Megan got her way.
She cleared her throat. “Up until a few years ago, options available to lower limb amputees were extremely limited. They had a choice between an advanced prosthetic limb with a microprocessor that could adapt to individual walking styles and different environments, or a slightly more advanced version that would do the same, only by detecting signals sent from the brain. Both solutions worked, but had their limitations.”
This was one part I knew about. Before meeting Dr. Merrick, I’d been fitted with a standard microprocessor-controlled prosthetic. Megan was right, it had worked. But not nearly as well as my new one.
I looked around the lab and found a chair to sit on.
This is going to take a while,
I thought to myself.
“Enjoying this?” Megan asked.
I laughed. “Can we order a pizza or something?”
“You’re funny,” she said, scowling. With a deep breath, she continued. “CyberLife Industries has taken lower limb prosthetics to the next level. The next ten levels, in fact. We’ve developed and fully tested a state-of-the-art cybernetic limb that is controlled directly by the human brain via a neural augment.”
I zoned out and thought back to the first time Dr. Merrick had given me his sales pitch for the neural augment. My parents (and even me to a certain extent) had been hesitant, to say the least. It was one thing to replace a missing limb, something else entirely to undergo experimental brain surgery. Dr. Merrick and his team had been insistent and assured me and my family that I’d enjoy a significant quality of life increase. My parents ultimately left the decision to me, saying they supported what I wanted. After more than a month (and a lot of nudging from Dr. Merrick) I had agreed.
“When the patient thinks about wiggling a toe or bending a knee, it does,” Megan said. “Instantaneously. There is no discernible difference between how quickly a normal human leg responds to the brain and our cybernetic version.”
I stuck my leg out and pointed at my foot.
“Hey, speaking of that. I can’t move my foot,” I said. “Is there something wrong with this thing?”
“Of course, the trouble is,” she continued, not missing a beat, “the person actually has to have a brain to make it work right.”
She tilted her head and smiled smartly.
I laughed.
“In addition,” she continued. “There is no visual difference between our cybernetic limb and a real one. We’ve developed a proprietary synthetic skin that uses 3D printing technology to create an exact duplicate of the patient’s real limb. Shape, skin tone, and even hair.”
I rubbed my hand up and down my leg and shifted my eyebrows up and down. “Sexy, huh?”
“You’re not taking this seriously, Benjamin.”
I grabbed my stomach. “I’m . . . so . . . hungry,” I moaned.
Megan shook her head and sighed. “What was I thinking? Trying to get a teenage boy to pay attention to something for more than two minutes. I suppose if I were a teenage girl, you’d pay attention?”
I smiled and nodded. “Or pizza.”
Megan threw her hands up and headed for the exit door. “Come on, let’s go eat. You’re buying.”