Daemon by Daniel Suárez Page B

time. He’d have to notice this was designed to kill him.”
    Ross leaned back against the hood of the car. “I’m guessing they didn’t design this part. Sobol probably did that. They probably coded other parts. Maybe parts we haven’t seen yet.”
    They stood there a moment in silence, weighing the significance of this.
    Ross was the first to break the silence. “It’s interesting that this Singh guy died trying to get into a server farm.”
    “Why’s that interesting?”
    “Well, a server farm is basically a big data storage vault. Racks and racks of servers.”
    “Yeah, so?”
    “So, if I were a programmer trying to get to a secret cache of data—or to physically stop some machine from running—perhaps I’d head for that server farm.”
    Sebeck leaned onto the car hood next to Ross.
    “Okay, so Singh, who probably works closely with Pavlos, hears about Pavlos’s death and makes a beeline for the server farm. Sobol anticipated this and kills him when he tries to enter. So you think there’s something in the server farm?”
    “Probably not anymore. It sounds like Sobol found whatever Singh put there. So what was Singh working on at CyberStorm? Do you know?”
    Sebeck strained to remember the name of Singh’s project. “Singh was lead programmer for a game called… Gate ?”
    “The Gate?”
    “Yeah, The Gate.”
    Ross let out a pained groan.
    “What now?”
    “Do you know the story line for The Gate, Sergeant?”
    Sebeck gave Ross a look. Clearly he did not.
    “It’s about a cult opening a gate to the Abyss and releasing a demon that lays waste to the world.”
    Sebeck just stared at him.
    Ross laughed. “I’m talking about Sobol’s game, Sergeant—I don’t believe in demons and devils.”
    “Good. You had me worried for a second.”
    “The only daemon I’m worried about is the Unix variety. There’s a delicious irony here that I don’t think Sobol would be able to resist. You’d know what I’m talking about if you played his games. Now consider this: The Gate is an MMORPG.”
    “What the hell is that?”
    “A massively multi-player online role-playing game.”
    “And what the hell is that ?”
    “It’s a persistent 3-D game world experienced simultaneously by tens of thousands of players over the Internet.”
    Sebeck pointed at Ross. “Okay, now that sounds bad.”
    “In this case it’s very bad.”
    “Well, the Feds powered down the whole server farm last night. There’s not a pocket calculator running over at CyberStorm now. So whatever he planned is…”
    Ross didn’t look reassured.
    Sebeck persisted, “I mean, hell, whoever did this couldn’t put tens of thousands of steel cables and electrocution traps in people’s houses. Failing that, this is basically just another computer virus.”
    Ross jerked his thumb. “I need my laptop.” He walked back and pulled his laptop case from the rear seat. He laid it on the trunk and unzipped the top compartment.
    Sebeck walked up to him. “What are you doing now?”
    Ross had a credit-card-sized device in his hand. He scanned the area with it. “I’m seeing if there’s a Wi-Fi signal in this area.” He looked to Sebeck. “And there is.” He pointed to the meter on the device, which indicated a strong signal.
    Sebeck took the device and examined it while Ross started unpacking his laptop. “Okay, so what’s this prove?”
    Ross pointed to the gate down the road. “We need some indication that we’re on the right track.”
    “And this does that?”
    “Well, for starters it confirms that the gate or the winch could be wirelessly hooked in to the Internet.”
    “Like the black box over at CyberStorm.”
    “Right. It means a living human being didn’t have to be involved in this. The news reports said Joseph Pavlos went riding down here just about every day. That means his gate remote became a murder weapon only after Sobol died.”
    Sebeck nodded. “Meaning the Daemon told the gate to kill Pavlos after it read the