it for a good cause. And now he’s here, from our home office in Washington. And we’re thankful, because that means we can probably get out of here a month early.”
The hackers laughed politely, optimistically. Then they exchanged a quick greeting with Tansy before turning back to their screens. Even as hackers go, they weren’t exactly a sociable bunch, which was just fine with Tansy. He was far too tired for any more speeches.
“We keep everyone pretty busy here,” said Jackson, as if reading Tansy’s mind. “For their benefit. The sooner we can get this all sorted out, the better. Because then we can finally pack up and leave this fucking place.”
“Yeah. Leave and get some sunlight.”
“Some what ?” Jackson said, chuckling.
“Just something that’s outside,” said Tansy, trying to read someone’s scribbled note on a dry-erase board. “So what’s the story so far?” He read down a short list of topics, all of them crossed out but one. “What do we know about that worm?”
“We found it in a federal database, The Bureau of Land Management, where they keep their tax information. Most likely sent from elements inside the Sagebrush Militia.” Jackson motioned for Tansy to follow him into a hallway. He spoke softly as they walked out of the room. “All we know is that it’s not theirs. They bought it from somewhere.”
“Anyone we know?”
“No. Doesn’t seem like it.”
They were now in a lounge room with TVs and plush furniture, an R&R space for the tired and overworked hacking team. Jackson was first to slide onto a sofa, kicking his feet up on a coffee table. Tansy followed suit, enjoying the feeling of sitting in something other than a car seat.
“If it’s someone we know,” said Jackson, “then they’ve intentionally created a weak worm. Which, I guess, is a possibility.”
“Why? They made it weak for us specifically?”
“It could be a message.”
“Was there anything imbedded? Any actual messages?”
“No,” said Jackson, inspecting some smudge on the sleeve of his golf shirt. “Nothing that obvious.”
“Okay. Well what if it’s not a message, and it’s just from a shitty architect?” asked Tansy. “We know they have someone over there in the militia. Someone who at least knows the rudiments.”
Jackson pursed his lips together, considering it. “Possible,” he finally said.
“Well, what’s not possible about it?”
“It’s not a shitty worm.”
“I thought you said it was,” said Tansy.
“I said it was weak . There’s a difference.”
“Not in my book.”
Jackson chuckled. “Your book,” he said mockingly. “It’s too black and white.”
“Black and white gets the job done, Jackson. How long have you guys been out here now?”
“Too black and white. Too simple. That’s the problem with you marines.”
“You wanna know what the problem with you is?”
Jackson smiled, waiting.
“You forgot to get me that fucking beer.” Tansy laughed. “Awful fucking host. How’s that for black and white?”
Jackson chuckled all the way to the fridge in the corner of the room. He grabbed two bottles and returned to the sofa, handing one to Tansy. “Listen,” he said, “this Sagebrush guy . . . he’s probably only good enough to find and hire other hackers, and to watch what they do. At least to make sure they’re actually doing something with his money. So we just gotta keep looking. Keep an eye out for who it is. That’s what we’re doing here.”
Tansy eased back in the sofa and took a swig of beer.
“What about you?” Jackson asked.
“What about me?”
“Have you been looking? How goes trying to track down some old friends?”
“I already told you,” said Tansy.
“Yeah. That was hours ago.”
“I’m still on it. Still waiting for some call-backs.”
Jackson started tapping his beer with his fingertips.
Tansy sighed. “Well, that’s the thing about tracking. It takes awhile.”
“Do you have any leads,
The hackers laughed politely, optimistically. Then they exchanged a quick greeting with Tansy before turning back to their screens. Even as hackers go, they weren’t exactly a sociable bunch, which was just fine with Tansy. He was far too tired for any more speeches.
“We keep everyone pretty busy here,” said Jackson, as if reading Tansy’s mind. “For their benefit. The sooner we can get this all sorted out, the better. Because then we can finally pack up and leave this fucking place.”
“Yeah. Leave and get some sunlight.”
“Some what ?” Jackson said, chuckling.
“Just something that’s outside,” said Tansy, trying to read someone’s scribbled note on a dry-erase board. “So what’s the story so far?” He read down a short list of topics, all of them crossed out but one. “What do we know about that worm?”
“We found it in a federal database, The Bureau of Land Management, where they keep their tax information. Most likely sent from elements inside the Sagebrush Militia.” Jackson motioned for Tansy to follow him into a hallway. He spoke softly as they walked out of the room. “All we know is that it’s not theirs. They bought it from somewhere.”
“Anyone we know?”
“No. Doesn’t seem like it.”
They were now in a lounge room with TVs and plush furniture, an R&R space for the tired and overworked hacking team. Jackson was first to slide onto a sofa, kicking his feet up on a coffee table. Tansy followed suit, enjoying the feeling of sitting in something other than a car seat.
“If it’s someone we know,” said Jackson, “then they’ve intentionally created a weak worm. Which, I guess, is a possibility.”
“Why? They made it weak for us specifically?”
“It could be a message.”
“Was there anything imbedded? Any actual messages?”
“No,” said Jackson, inspecting some smudge on the sleeve of his golf shirt. “Nothing that obvious.”
“Okay. Well what if it’s not a message, and it’s just from a shitty architect?” asked Tansy. “We know they have someone over there in the militia. Someone who at least knows the rudiments.”
Jackson pursed his lips together, considering it. “Possible,” he finally said.
“Well, what’s not possible about it?”
“It’s not a shitty worm.”
“I thought you said it was,” said Tansy.
“I said it was weak . There’s a difference.”
“Not in my book.”
Jackson chuckled. “Your book,” he said mockingly. “It’s too black and white.”
“Black and white gets the job done, Jackson. How long have you guys been out here now?”
“Too black and white. Too simple. That’s the problem with you marines.”
“You wanna know what the problem with you is?”
Jackson smiled, waiting.
“You forgot to get me that fucking beer.” Tansy laughed. “Awful fucking host. How’s that for black and white?”
Jackson chuckled all the way to the fridge in the corner of the room. He grabbed two bottles and returned to the sofa, handing one to Tansy. “Listen,” he said, “this Sagebrush guy . . . he’s probably only good enough to find and hire other hackers, and to watch what they do. At least to make sure they’re actually doing something with his money. So we just gotta keep looking. Keep an eye out for who it is. That’s what we’re doing here.”
Tansy eased back in the sofa and took a swig of beer.
“What about you?” Jackson asked.
“What about me?”
“Have you been looking? How goes trying to track down some old friends?”
“I already told you,” said Tansy.
“Yeah. That was hours ago.”
“I’m still on it. Still waiting for some call-backs.”
Jackson started tapping his beer with his fingertips.
Tansy sighed. “Well, that’s the thing about tracking. It takes awhile.”
“Do you have any leads,
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