Imagine (Fuzed Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  Staring despondently at the floor, he jumped when he heard his text message tone. Shaking his head rapidly to clear his anxiety, he picked up the phone. Anything would be a welcome distraction, but as he looked down at the message, he got another shot of adrenaline. The text simply said, “You were designed.” There was no name or phone number, and he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of people who had his number.

  Josh texted, “Who is this?”

  “Jcn.”

  He texted back, “You mean Jen?”

  “Yes.”

  He knew no one named Jen, from his current or previous life. Fishing for information, he texted, “What did you mean by designed?”

  “Your DNA coding is very streamlined. Mine is too.”

  He reread it. That had to be about his genetically blended body! No one knew about that except Jesse. Could Jesse have created more than one of him? There was a certain attraction to the idea he might not be alone. He replied, “You’re suggesting we have something in common?”

  “We were both designed.”

  He wasn’t going to admit to anything yet. “Interesting, I’d like to talk more. Can we meet?”

  “No.”

  If she was really like him, she might also have to keep a low profile. “Are you being monitored?”

  “Yes.”

  Josh realized that with no telephone number, this must be an encrypted text, similar to what Tim used with their team in Antarctica.

  Frowning, he asked, “How did you find me?”

  “I received a message.”

  “From who?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Josh’s eyes narrowed. “What was the message?”

  Her reply was immediate. “It identified who you were and said we could help each other.”

  Still frowning he asked, “What type of message was it?”

  There was a slight delay. “A voice.”

  Josh said aloud, “Jesse!” It had to be him. Who else communicated with nothing but a voice? He must be trying to connect them. Since the surgery, Josh had attempted to contact Jesse several times but hadn’t gotten a response. This Jen might help him fill in some missing puzzle pieces. He needed to know what she knew.

  She texted, “I have to go.”

  “How can I reach you?”

  “01-111-101-0001”

  Pacing and nervously drumming his fingers on his leg, he said softly to himself, “Calm down. There’s no reason to be anxious.” He took a deep breath. “Just because a mysterious woman knows I was designed ... and my wife is having dinner with my widow.”

  6

  HACKED

  Armani was sitting in his office eating a Snickers bar and sipping a Diet Coke when his chief programmer called.

  “Hey, Ryan, you probably ought to take a look at this.”

  If Boyd wanted him to look at something, it was bad. He bolted to Boyd’s office. In his usual rapid fire, he asked, “What is it?”

  Boyd pointed at the screen and with his relaxed drawl, said, “Happened again. Someone hacked the central server and changed core code.”

  “Bocce balls! What’d they do?”

  Boyd raised an eyebrow. “Bocce balls?”

  They were constantly giving him a hard time about his creative vocabulary. Impatient, Armani said, “Well?”

  Boyd typed quickly on his keyboard. “Still trying to figure that out.”

  Armani said, “We need to switch to the backup server and isolate this!” He yelled across the office. “Keith, come here!” Turning back to Boyd, he added, “If we have to shut down the app on billions of phones, we’ll be flooded with complaints and trouble calls for weeks.”

  Boyd said slowly, “Let’s take a deep breath and see what the damage is before we go into Whac-a-mole mode.”

  Hitting gopher heads as fast as they popped up was definitely Armani’s leadership style, and he saw nothing wrong with it.

  A small crowd gathered around Boyd’s office.

  Armani looked around. Finding who he was looking for, he said, “Keith, need you to be ready to switch to the backup servers ASAP, but not until I give you the word.”

  Keith nodded and headed off.

  Boyd, still typing, said softly, “Would you guys mind backing off just a bit? You’re making me nervous.”

  Armani waved people back as he stood over Boyd’s shoulder.

  Boyd looked up at him.

  Armani stepped back. “Sorry.”

  Boyd finally said, “OK, think I got it.” Looking surprised, he said, “Colors.”

  Armani said, “What?”

  “Colors. It looks like the hacker changed the colors on the opening app screen.”

  “Colors! That’s it? There isn’t some Trojan virus in there?”

  “Nope. After the last hack, I set up this program on an independent server to monitor software code changes. It takes a snapshot of the code and compares it to what’s on the main server several times a second. It alarms if there’s any change at all and tells us where the change is.”

  Frowning, Armani asked, “How bad is the color change?”

  Boyd called the graphic up on the screen. Everyone crowded forward to look.

  Finally, Boyd looked up at Armani. “What do you think?”

  “How the dillywink would I know? I’m color blind.”

  There was subdued laughter, and then a small voice in the back said, “It’s a bit bright, but it isn’t bad.”

  Everyone turned toward her.

  Boyd said, “This is Bea, one of our new graphic artist interns.”

  Armani nodded and asked her, “Really?”

  She smiled. “Whoever did this, did a nice job of blending. They used bright but complementary colors. It’s simple but catchy.”

  Armani sighed. “Okay, someone tell Keith to cancel the server switch.” He shook his head. “Why on earth would someone go to all the trouble of hacking our system to make our splash screen prettier?”

  One of the engineers said, “Maybe he’s just letting us know he can, a challenge for us to try and stop him?”

  Bea said, “Or, maybe he wants a job here.”

  All but Armani laughed.

  Boyd added, “Anyone who can get through our firewall twice deserves a job.”

  Armani looked around at his team. “Well, if he does it again, he might get all our jobs.” He shook his head. “Okay, show’s over, back to work.” He gave Boyd a head nod toward his office.

  As the group broke up, Boyd followed him.

  Armani quietly asked, “This is the third breach. What can we do to stop him?”

  Boyd scratched his head. “Whoever he is, he’s good. Can’t find any trace of his penetration.”

  They went inside Armani’s office and closed the door. “Could it be an inside job? Could someone be playing a practical joke on us or be angry about something?”

  With a straight face, Boyd nodded. “Probably someone offended by your bad language — dillywink, bocce balls ....”

  Armani shook his head in irritation. “This is serious.”

  Boyd sighed. “We have a tight crew here. Plenty of practical jokers, but,” he shook his head, “can’t believe anyone would mess with the core software code. You know that’s like sacrilege for us software types. We wouldn’t dare do it unless we had a death wish, and the rest of the office wouldn’t know how.”

  Armani just looked at him.

  “OK, I’ll change all the passwords and put in a monitor program that can track everyone’s activity. If they’re not part of the staff, the password change should stop them. If they are, we should be able to find out who’s accessing the code.”

  Elizabeth met Carl and Kelly in the lobby and immediately confirmed the truism that opposites attract. Carl was a serious-looking, tall, dark professional. Kelly was a bubbly, freckled, redhead with smiling green eyes. Within minutes, Elizabeth identified a kindred spirit and liked her.

  They told her they were taking her to one of th
eir favorite restaurants, J Gilbert’s.

  Kelly said, “That’s where we first met Josh.”

  J Gilbert’s was an elegant steak house near CIA Headquarters. It had that dark wood and brick, old world feel to it. Impressed with the menu, she wasn’t going to be shy, and ordered filet mignon with all the fixings.

  The discussion was a little awkward at first because Elizabeth wasn’t sure how much of the past events she could talk about openly. Switching to global politics she asked, “So, Carl, do you think we’re moving toward world government?”

  He thought for a moment and then carefully said, “There’s no doubt we moved that way while we were trying to deflect the comet.”

  She nodded. “Very diplomatic answer, but now that we’re not under the gun, will we go back to the way things were?”

  Carl gave her a small smile. “I was genuinely surprised when they changed the U.N. Security Council’s ability to veto with only one vote ... to a three quarter’s majority.” He shook his head. “And even intelligence agencies are working together now.”

  “Really? How?” She smiled. “Or if you tell me, will you have to kill me?”

  Carl smiled. “Not this time. The current administration publicized an intelligence summit that was attended by our CIA Director, Chief of British SIS, head of the Russian SVR and several other key intelligence directors, and it was chaired by the U.N. Director of Global Security.”

  “The U.N.? Bet that was awkward.”

  “Not really. Doruk Turan grew up in the law enforcement and intel community. As the former Vice-President of the European Union, he’s credited with almost eliminating terrorism in Europe.”

  “So, all this is good?”

  “It’s improved our ability to stop terrorism and catch criminals ....”

  Elizabeth caught his hesitation. “But ...?”

  He shrugged. “Time will tell.” He paused and then changed the subject. “Elizabeth, may I give you some intel background on Columbia?”

  Kelly smiled. “Oooh. You’re getting the same treatment as the Secretary of State.”

  Elizabeth nodded emphatically. “That’d be great!”

  As she enjoyed a spectacular filet, Carl gave her a detailed brief on Columbia.

  Finishing up, Carl looked down at his phone. “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to take this.”

  Kelly shook her head, and with a smile, she whispered dramatically, “The job.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “No problem.”

  As Carl left the table, Kelly leaned forward and said, “Good. This gives us some time for girl talk. Carl’s an angel, but he’s soooo task-oriented.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Yeah, so is Josh.”

  They talked about several topics, but then, looking serious, Kelly asked, “Elizabeth, is it still hard to think about your first husband?”

  Elizabeth sighed. “It was for the first year. I finally realized, because of how he died ....” She stopped and explained. “Kelly, he was a great guy, but he was an adrenaline junky. He loved riding fast motorcycles. One afternoon, he went for a ride and never came back. It was a terrible accident and a ... a closed coffin funeral. I figured out later, I had no closure. Some part of me must have believed he was still alive.”

  Kelly nodded sympathetically. “I understand.”

  Elizabeth gave her a half-smile. “Then I met Josh. He finally gave me a reason to face up to the fact my husband was dead. He was never coming back. It was weird.” Looking down, she added, “Guess I really mourned him for the first time.”

  Kelly nodded thoughtfully and patted Elizabeth’s hand. “Makes perfect sense.” After a respectful pause, she asked, “So, where’d you meet him?”

  “In the hospital. He was ...” slowing down, she continued, “uh, having some tests done.” Quickly changing the subject, Elizabeth asked, “What about your first husband? If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to him?”

  “Andy was an adrenaline junky too. A Navy test pilot, he was assigned to Boeing in St. Louis as the program manager for the Navy’s robotic fighters.” Pausing, she frowned, and then gently shook her head. “It was just a routine flight. He was delivering one of the new fighters they built there to its fleet squadron in California. Somehow, it caught on fire.” Looking down, she continued, “It was very hard. Andy wasn’t ready to have children, and I had just found out I was pregnant.” She shook her head sadly. “I didn’t tell him before he left. He ....” She sighed softly. “He never knew he had a ....” Her voice faltered.

  Elizabeth squeezed her hand. After a few moments, she shifted subjects. “So, when did you meet Carl?”

  Kelly looked up with a small smile. “Andy and Carl were good friends, so I already knew him.” She paused, thinking. “The crash was late March. Guess I saw Carl at the funeral a few days later, but it was such a blur, I really don’t remember any of it. It wasn’t until the posthumous medal ceremony a month later, I remember talking to him.”

  Elizabeth cocked her head slightly. “March?”

  “Yes.”

  Tapping her temple, Elizabeth said, “I remember now. The crash was headline news in Kansas City. I just now made the connection.”

  Kelly nodded. “They told me he managed to fly the jet into the only unpopulated area around the airport. I think they even renamed the shopping center they were building there after him.”

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in question.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. My married name was Logan.”

  Elizabeth knocked her drink over in surprise as past conversations flooded her mind.

  “... going to sound a little strange, but I had a former life. I was a Navy test pilot ... need to reestablish my security access at Boeing.”

  Trying to cover her shock, Elizabeth said, “I’m sorry. I’m so clumsy.”

  As Kelly helped her mop up, Elizabeth had to confirm the obvious. “Andy Logan?”

  “Yes.” Kelly looked up questioningly.

  Elizabeth managed, “Uh, the Logan Shopping Complex ... isn’t far from where I used to live.”

  Kelly nodded her head. “What are the odds?”

  Under her breath, Elizabeth said, “Astronomical.” She had to change the subject to give herself a minute to compose. She quickly asked Kelly about her daughter.

  As Kelly spoke of the joys and challenges of toddlers, Elizabeth just sat there watching Kelly, but hearing little. Her mind whirled. It couldn’t be a coincidence!

  Carl returned and apologized. He asked, “Would you ladies like some dessert?”

  Elizabeth said, “No, thanks.” She had planned to have dessert, but lost her appetite.

  As they dropped her off at the hotel, Kelly gave Elizabeth a warm hug and said, “Please, let’s stay in touch. I just know we’re going to be good friends.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, I think we have ... a lot in common.”

  7

  BOGOTA

  Josh landed at El Dorado International airport in Bogota one day behind Elizabeth. Even with the higher scrutiny of martial law, he was surprised how much faster the airport security and customs process had become. Although he wasn’t excited about greater U.N. control, he knew streamlining international travel had been essential to the comet deflection effort.

  Outside the terminal, it was hazy but bright. He put on his sunglasses. They were the latest iMăge brand designer cyber-glasses. They displayed the current weather. Although Bogota was close to the equator, it was high in the Andes, creating a temperate climate.

  His destination was the University of San Ignacio Hospital. One of the best in the capital, it sustained only minor damage from the earthquake. The U.N. had set up a command center nearby to help coordinate relief efforts. Speaking his destination to Hal, his glasses displayed the location as a map overlay. Another advantage of his amazing body was his brain’s ability to switch seamlessly from imperial to metric units. The hospital was inside the city about 15 kilometers east of the airport.

  Josh grabbed a ta
xi. The driver was a very friendly and talkative man. Josh quickly discovered Columbian Spanish was not only a different dialect, but spoken very fast. He practiced on his driver, who helped correct his pronunciations. As they drove toward the city, the driver asked whether he was “mestizo” or “pardo?”

  Josh shook his head, “I don’t understand.”

  The driver, looking at him in the rearview mirror, clarified, “Are you Black, White or Indian?”

  Josh often forgot about his appearance. The driver’s expression was open and Josh knew the Columbian population had a high percentage of mixed European, Indian, and African ancestry. Josh shrugged and said, “Yes.” His literal engineering mind kicked in and with a slight frown, he added, “It’s funny, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a truly white or black person, just beige to brown people.”

  Smiling, the driver challenged him with, “Albino?”

  Josh grinned back. “Pink.”

  The driver laughed and said, “Skin color just tells us how close our ancestors lived to either the equator or the poles. Too much sun, too little pigment, we burn. Too little sun, too much pigment, we die of vitamin D deficiency.” Holding up a very dark brown hand, he smiled. “My ancestors must have come from right on the equator.”

  Josh held up his hand and looked at it. Shrugging, he said, “Intermedio?”

  The philosopher driving his cab, nodded back. It was a good reminder to Josh never to judge someone by their profession.

  Bogota looked like any other major metropolis, except it had large mountains to the east that disappeared into the clouds. The first evidence of the earthquake was the cab bouncing over large cracks and furrows in the asphalt. Reaching the outskirts of the city, the buildings appeared undamaged, but he saw broken glass in the streets. His driver told him that many had evacuated the city before the comet and were just now returning. Despite the light traffic, it took an hour to get to the hospital due to the detours. Josh thanked the driver for the conversation and language lesson, tipping him generously.