Fault Line (8 page)

She walked down the corridor to his office and poked her head in, but he wasn't there. His secretary, Alisa, saw her and said, He had to go to the police station.

Sarah raised her eyebrows. The police station? Is it about Hilzoy?

Alisa shook her head. He didn't say.

Sarah nodded and said, He never does, does he?

She walked off, thinking maybe she would just grab something from the firm cafeteria. Yeah, that was probably for the best.

Chapter 9 SADLY ETERNAL

Alex got to the office at six o'clock the next morning. He hadn't slept well, but at least he'd come up with a course of action. The first step was to check in with the Patent and Trademark Office. The group director of Technology Center 2130-the PTO examination group responsible for computer cryptography and security-was a Stanford grad named Hank Shiffman, whom Alex had been friendly with when they were students. Having a friend like Hank inside was huge-he was smart enough to really get what Obsidian was about, and he knew all the bizarre inner workings of the patent office, too. Hank and 2130 hadn't officially received the application yet, but Hank had been keeping Alex unofficially apprised of its progress since it had first arrived at the Office of Initial Patent Examination. The last Alex had heard, the application had been forwarded to the Department of Defense for national security review. A security review was routine for an invention dealing with cryptography, and unless the DoD decided to issue a secrecy order-a huge pain in the neck but, thank God, highly unlikely-the application would soon pass muster and be assigned to a formal examiner in Hank's group.

It was nine o'clock in Virginia, where the PTO was located. Alex called Hank and got his voice mail.

Damn. Hank was always at his desk early. Well, maybe he was in the bathroom or something.

The message said to press zero to speak to an operator. Alex did. A moment later, a woman asked, How may I direct your call?

I'm trying to reach Hank Shiffman.

There was a pause. The woman said, Ah, could you hold on for just a moment?

Alex waited, wondering why the woman had sounded so uncertain about something so mundane.

A moment later, another woman's voice came on, throatier than the first, the tone more businesslike. Hello, this is Director Jane Hamsher, Computer Architecture, Software, and Information Security. May I ask to whom I'm speaking?

Alex thought for a moment. The information Hank had been feeding him was back-channel. He didn't want to create a problem for his friend.

This is Alex Treven, he said. I'm a friend of Hank's from Stanford.

There was a pause, then the woman said, I see. Then I'm sorry to be the one to tell you that Hank passed away yesterday.

Alex had one long moment during which he was certain he had heard wrong. He replayed the woman's words in his head, trying to arrive at a construction that made sense. Nothing did.

Finally he managed to blurt out, What what happened? How?

Apparently, it was a heart attack.

Alex thought of Hank, a vegetarian and a demon on the squash court. But Hank was totally healthy. I mean, I don't think I've ever known anyone that healthy.

I know, it's been quite a shock to all of us. It seems it was something congenital, but they're still trying to work it out. We re all going to miss Hank. He was a good man and very capable.

She was easing away. Alex thought, Well, nothing to protect him from if he's dead, and said, The thing is, Hank was advising me on a cryptography application on behalf of a client. I wonder if there's someone else there who could give me an update?

There was a pause. Hank was the examiner? the woman asked, her tone doubtful.

No, it hadn't been assigned to a group yet. As far as I know, it's still at OIPE, and subject to Defense Department review-

Well, as soon as it's cleared the review, OIPE will assign it to a technology group, probably 2130 from your description. We'll be in touch at that point.

Damn, not quite the sympathetic reaction he'd been hoping a bereaved friend would rate. Right, Alex said. Thank you.

Not at all. And again, my condolences.

He hung up. Time for a Plan B. Trouble was, with Hilzoy dead, he was already at Plan B. And it didn't seem to be going well.

First Hilzoy, then Hank. Unbelievable. It was like Obsidian was cursed.

He thought about what to do next. He still needed to find out who stood to inherit the rights to the patent if-when-it was issued. Also to roll up his sleeves and thoroughly assess the technology-the benefits, the limitations, all possible applications in various potential markets. Up until now, Hilzoy had been the best pitchman for Obsidian as something you could build a company around. With Hilzoy gone, Alex would need to be able to talk that talk.

He went through Hilzoy's file and was unsurprised to find no information on family. All right, he'd put Alisa on this. Contact the ex-wife and figure out who were the closest relatives-the likely beneficiaries under a will, or the most likely to inherit if Hilzoy died intestate.

Finally, the technology itself. Hilzoy always left a backup DVD of the latest version with Alisa when he visited the office. Alex went out and retrieved it, then popped it into the bay of his laptop. When the program booted, Alex was surprised to hear music coming from the laptop's tiny speakers. He didn't recognize the tune-something instrumental. He listened for a minute, then found a command to turn it off. It was creepy, imagining Hilzoy listening to it while he worked on Obsidian. Maybe it was one of his favorites.

He started performing the various applications, describing them as he worked, pretending he was talking to a VC. Did you see how fast Obsidian encrypted a five-gigabyte video file? Well, it scales, too. We've tested it up to five terabytes, and we think it can go further. And not just video, of course not. Any data. Any platform. And the decrypt process is just as quick. Watch this

He kept at it for an hour, immersed, lost to the outside world. He had to be able to do this. He had to.

There was a knock on his door. He called out, Yeah.

The door opened and Sarah walked in. Hey, she said, her tone and accompanying expression suggesting she was not entirely pleased.

What is it? Alex asked, startled to see her, his mind still more than half occupied by Obsidian.

She sat down and looked at him. Has it not occurred to you that other people might be concerned about what happened to Hilzoy?

Alex frowned. Why couldn't she just act like a first-year associate was supposed to? She couldn't just barge in here, plop down in a seat like his office was her second home, and start interrogating him.

Look- he started to say.

She leaned forward, her elbows on his desk. You blew out of here and went to the police station yesterday. What was that all about?

Alex forced himself not to glance down at the alluring bit of dEcolletage he sensed in his peripheral vision. All right, maybe she had a point. He was murdered, he said.

Suddenly her expression was soft again. Oh my God, I can't believe it.

He thought he should just tell her he was busy. Convey his displeasure with her failure to show him the appropriate deference. He'd always been deferential when he was a first-year. What was wrong with her?

Instead, he said, There was a bunch of heroin in the trunk of his car. Some kind of drug deal, they think.

Heroin? Hilzoy? Come on, he was a geek. That doesn't make sense.

I guess you can never tell.

She leaned back as though she intended to stay awhile. The police called you because they thought you might know something?

For a moment Alex hesitated, and then he surrendered. Hilzoy, then Hank it was so weird, he just needed to talk to someone. He told her about the cell phone connection that led the police to him, about the Q&A at headquarters, even about the DNA test. He hadn't been planning to say so much; in fact, he hadn't planned on saying anything. He sensed that in doing so now he was taking a chance, the risks of which he didn't fully understand and certainly couldn't control. The feeling made him feel slightly dizzy, almost nauseated.

Have you told Osborne? she asked, when he was done.

No. He's in Bangkok until tomorrow. I'll tell him then.

Won't he want to know right away? You could send him an e-mail.

Alex laughed. If it's not his client, Osborne could give a shit, believe me.

The moment the words were out, he wished he hadn't said it. He always knew to be tight-lipped about that kind of thing-you never knew how something innocuous could get distorted and amplified in the retelling. He hated that she could have this effect on him.

But Sarah only smiled sympathetically. So, what's going to happen to the patent?

Alex ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. I'm trying to find out.

She glanced at his laptop. Is that what you're doing there?

A little, yeah. Taking Obsidian for a test drive. Trying to see how it does without Hilzoy behind the wheel.

She nodded. Well, if you want a copilot, just ask me.

He looked at her, trying to read her expression. What did the offer mean, exactly? Was it just about work, or

He felt himself blushing. Goddamn it.

Thanks, he said. I'll let you know.

She smiled and stood. Sorry I barged in on you. I was just really curious, you know?

Alex nodded and forced himself to stay in his seat. He wasn't going to see her off as though she were a damned partner.

She flashed him that beautiful smile again and left, closing the door behind her. Alex expelled a long breath. After a minute, he opened the laptop and returned to experimenting with Obsidian. But he couldn't get his focus back. This whole situation it was just stirring up memories.

Alex had been a freshman at Menlo Atherton High School the night Katie died. He was sleeping, and was stirred to partial wakefulness by the sound of the phone ringing. He wondered vaguely why someone would be calling so late, then started to drift off again, knowing that whatever it was, his parents would take care of it. And then, a moment later, he was shocked to full consciousness by the most terrible sound he'd ever heard. It wasn't a loud sound, but it made him sit bolt upright anyway, his hands shaking, all the warmth suddenly gone from his body.

The sound was his mother. Six syllables, all in a quavering, unnaturally high voice, the words themselves eclipsed and irrelevant beside the naked terror in her tone.

Oh no. Oh please God no.

Alex sat frozen in his bed, holding the covers close, more frightened than he'd ever been in his life. What could make his mother sound that way? Who was on the phone?

A moment later, his father appeared at his door. He flicked on the light and in a quiet, commanding voice Alex had never heard before said, Alex, get dressed. We have to go to the hospital.

Alex shook his head, not understanding. The hospital? Who was sick?

Dad-

Now! his father said.

They piled into his dad's car, his mother in the passenger seat, Alex confused and afraid in back, and screeched backward out of the driveway. The moment they hit the street his dad spun the wheel and locked up the brakes and Alex was thrown forward. He didn't even have his seat belt on yet. Then his dad floored it and he was thrown back again. He got his seat belt on with shaking hands just as his dad fishtailed right at the end of the street, nearly slamming Alex up against the door.

His dad kept driving like a madman, and his mother, who was never shy about opining on his dad's driving, especially when she deemed it unsafe, didn't say a word. Alex was suddenly aware he needed to take a leak. He'd been so frightened, and they'd left in such a hurry, he hadn't even realized.

It's Katie, his father said as though remembering for the first time that Alex didn't even know what the hell was going on. He slowed at a red light and swiveled his head to check for traffic, then rocketed through. She was in an accident.

Alex felt tears well up and forced them back. He heard an echo of his mother's voice in his mind and knew all at once the sound would reverberate inside him forever.

Oh no. Oh please God no.

I don't understand, his mother said, and Alex could hear she was crying. Where's Ben? I thought you were going to tell him-

I did tell him, Alex's father said. He was supposed to drive Katie home. I told him specifically.

Alex tried to understand what this was about. Earlier that day the whole family had returned from two days at the California State Wrestling Championships in Bakersfield, where Ben had won the 171-pound weight class. Ben had been ecstatic, so happy he had even surprised Alex by hugging him in front of everyone in the stands. Some kids were throwing Ben a party that night. It was for seniors and juniors, so Ben and Katie were going. No one had told Alex more than that. They never did.

Maybe Wally drove her, Alex said in a small voice, trying to be helpful. Wally Farquhar was Katie's boyfriend. He was a senior and had a fancy black Mustang. He never gave any sign of even knowing Alex existed, and Alex didn't like him much. He had the sense his parents weren't so crazy about Wally either.