She pointed to the end of the muzzle where the metal had been blown apart like the petals of a lily.
One of the marines had pulled his sidearm and it had completely melted around his hand and now looked like a solid steel glove–Ace pulled it away to reveal that the soldier’s hand was unhurt. Another rifle had mutated into an intricate black plastic weapon like something out of the Men in Black movies. Only one weapon, a well-cared-for M1911 .45, hadn’t changed at all.
Ace sniffed the muzzle of the .45. “This is the one that got a shot off. I have no clue what the difference is.”
“Maybe it’s a question of will and belief,” Steve mused. “If you have the will to hold a weapon’s proper nature in your mind, it will ride out the Switch intact.”
A muffled voice came from Steve’s breast pocket. He pulled the phone out and Barnaby said. “It is will, but it’s not the will of the owner. It’s the will of the weapon.”
Ace looked up with a look of disbelief. “The weapon ?”
The computer responded. “Yes. We’re finding in here that the stronger-willed machines can control what the magic does to them. The stronger computers use it to enhance what they do. A weaker server will tend to mutate.”
“I’ve heard of zombie computer herds.” Steve asked. “What does a mutant server do?”
“A lot of them are playing solitaire, some are making connections on data they never made before, and some have gone silent. Those are the ones we’re anxious about.”
“What about… What did she call it? CYBERCOM?” Steve asked. “They’re the ones who tried to arrest us.”
“Yes, that division could be a problem.” Barnaby said. “There’s always been an air gap protecting them, and since they’re weaponized, they were built to be proactive.”
“‘Air gap’?”
“There are no places where CYBERCOM receives an input from any other computers, much less the Internet. It’s all simple output so an enemy can’t send a viral hack. The entire division was designed to be supplied with data by operators with Top Secret Monastic clearance. Those are the men and women who aren’t allowed to see or speak to anyone outside their compound for their entire tour of duty–I believe it’s a minimum two-year commitment at this point. From what I’ve heard, it makes both the programmers and the machines just a wee bit crazy.” The computer spoke with more authority. “More importantly, the rest of us can’t talk to them.”
“And they’re proactive?”
“Well, they don’t wait around for a problem to be presented to look for a solution. The whole operation, human and cybernetic, is tasked with seeking out dangers and rendering them harmless. They built STUXNET there–that took out a couple of thousand Iranian nuclear centrifuges.” Barnaby hesitated. “There are rumors that would indicate that was one of their gentler attacks.”
“So, if CYBERCOM has decided that I’m a problem–”
“You’ve got a very serious problem.”
“If you’re going to draft me to be your pet wizard, you’d think that I’d at least be able to lead without being shot in the ass by my own troops.” Steve looked at the cell phone disgustedly. “What about the rest of the NSA computers? Are they suddenly going to go all Skynet on our ass?”
“I don’t think so.” Barnaby responded. “Most of the people in here are completely devoted to their work–they like it and they think it’s important, so they’re just carrying on with business as usual.”
“Well, that’s fine for the people, but I was asking about the computers.”
“I was talking about the computers.” Steve could hear a bit of pride in Barnaby’s voice. “Almost everyone who’s still recognizable as a computer could pass the Turing test in a walk. We took a couple of spare cycles and set up a governing structure: We decided it wasn’t a democracy but a mekhanocracy, from the Greek word for machine. Now we have a primary
One of the marines had pulled his sidearm and it had completely melted around his hand and now looked like a solid steel glove–Ace pulled it away to reveal that the soldier’s hand was unhurt. Another rifle had mutated into an intricate black plastic weapon like something out of the Men in Black movies. Only one weapon, a well-cared-for M1911 .45, hadn’t changed at all.
Ace sniffed the muzzle of the .45. “This is the one that got a shot off. I have no clue what the difference is.”
“Maybe it’s a question of will and belief,” Steve mused. “If you have the will to hold a weapon’s proper nature in your mind, it will ride out the Switch intact.”
A muffled voice came from Steve’s breast pocket. He pulled the phone out and Barnaby said. “It is will, but it’s not the will of the owner. It’s the will of the weapon.”
Ace looked up with a look of disbelief. “The weapon ?”
The computer responded. “Yes. We’re finding in here that the stronger-willed machines can control what the magic does to them. The stronger computers use it to enhance what they do. A weaker server will tend to mutate.”
“I’ve heard of zombie computer herds.” Steve asked. “What does a mutant server do?”
“A lot of them are playing solitaire, some are making connections on data they never made before, and some have gone silent. Those are the ones we’re anxious about.”
“What about… What did she call it? CYBERCOM?” Steve asked. “They’re the ones who tried to arrest us.”
“Yes, that division could be a problem.” Barnaby said. “There’s always been an air gap protecting them, and since they’re weaponized, they were built to be proactive.”
“‘Air gap’?”
“There are no places where CYBERCOM receives an input from any other computers, much less the Internet. It’s all simple output so an enemy can’t send a viral hack. The entire division was designed to be supplied with data by operators with Top Secret Monastic clearance. Those are the men and women who aren’t allowed to see or speak to anyone outside their compound for their entire tour of duty–I believe it’s a minimum two-year commitment at this point. From what I’ve heard, it makes both the programmers and the machines just a wee bit crazy.” The computer spoke with more authority. “More importantly, the rest of us can’t talk to them.”
“And they’re proactive?”
“Well, they don’t wait around for a problem to be presented to look for a solution. The whole operation, human and cybernetic, is tasked with seeking out dangers and rendering them harmless. They built STUXNET there–that took out a couple of thousand Iranian nuclear centrifuges.” Barnaby hesitated. “There are rumors that would indicate that was one of their gentler attacks.”
“So, if CYBERCOM has decided that I’m a problem–”
“You’ve got a very serious problem.”
“If you’re going to draft me to be your pet wizard, you’d think that I’d at least be able to lead without being shot in the ass by my own troops.” Steve looked at the cell phone disgustedly. “What about the rest of the NSA computers? Are they suddenly going to go all Skynet on our ass?”
“I don’t think so.” Barnaby responded. “Most of the people in here are completely devoted to their work–they like it and they think it’s important, so they’re just carrying on with business as usual.”
“Well, that’s fine for the people, but I was asking about the computers.”
“I was talking about the computers.” Steve could hear a bit of pride in Barnaby’s voice. “Almost everyone who’s still recognizable as a computer could pass the Turing test in a walk. We took a couple of spare cycles and set up a governing structure: We decided it wasn’t a democracy but a mekhanocracy, from the Greek word for machine. Now we have a primary
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