Simulated, p.3
Simulated, page 3
“Dry. That’s pretty much all I can tell you.” He sighs deeply. “If you had your”—he stops, correcting himself—“if you were here, we’d have figured out this case by now.”
I can’t overlook that he almost said “your gift” but I don’t blame him. I think the same way. Now that I know my numbers are still there, and just buried inside me, getting my calculating ability back is my main priority.
“Not going well, huh?”
He growls. “We’re chasing the wrong thing if you ask me. But I got a lead—I’m on my way to check it out now.”
The mischief in his voice is undeniable, which is what makes him such a great asset to their team. He thinks out of the box and he fears nothing. He’s the guy who followed me into Madame’s claws, into the pit of Golden Alley and King’s underground domain. But right now, that doesn’t bring me any comfort. For a minute, I understand my father’s fear.
“Kai, please be careful.”
“Lost your confidence in me so easily, did you?” he asks, chuckling.
“Not one bit. I just want you to be safe, that’s all.” The first time he returned from a field op, he refused to video chat with me. Later I found out he’d broken his nose, a few ribs, and dislocated his shoulder, not to mention he was covered in new bruises and stitches. When I finally saw him, he’d looked like hell. Black eyes and bandages.
When I fussed over him, he’d laughed. “Now I’m really glad you didn’t see me three days ago. Don’t worry, Trouble. I loved every minute of it.” That was my Kai. Fearless.
“Trust me,” he says now as his engine goes quiet. “I’m always safe.” His tone turns serious. “I’ve also got news. PGF offered me my dream job. Not to brag, but I’m the youngest qualified agent to have ever been offered this type of job.”
“I’m not surprised at all. What is it?”
He clears his throat. “That’s just it…there are some conditions that would make it really hard to accept.”
“Like what?” I ask.
Kai inhales a long breath. “Let’s talk about it when I get back.” The quiver in his voice makes me squirm. “First you need to explain who it was that got you upset. Is someone harassing you?”
“Oh. Right,” I say, surprised I’d forgotten. “Um. Pretty sure it was Coral Hacker —the one who sent me that warning about you. He sent me another message. Something about Tunisia.”
Kai goes silent. After several beats, he clears his throat again. “Don’t let this guy get to you, Jo. After we hang up, call Bai and tell him what you told me.”
My breath catches. Tunisia means something to Kai. I hear it in his voice. Somehow that weirdo knows where Kai is. But what’s the connection? Why does he care what Kai and I do?
“Jo? Did you hear me?”
“Yeah. I’ll do it.” Kai’s right. I shouldn’t let this guy get under my skin—except if I’m honest he already has. The Coral Sea. The way he said my name. His promise to help me get my gift back…it’s haunted me for weeks.
And now he wants Kai ‘to back off’. So, yes, it bothers me, and no one seems keen to do anything about it.
A loud racket from his side of the line makes me stiffen. It sounds like glass breaking. “Jo?” Kai’s voice is masked in static. “Jo, I gotta go…”
“Kai? Is something wrong?” The crackling on the phone gets louder. My throat goes dry.
“Never. Meet you on the street.” The call drops. So does my stomach.
I dial Agent Bai right away, but he doesn’t answer. I leave a message for him to call me immediately.
For the next few minutes, I drive slowly to PSS telling myself bad phone connections happen all the time. Kai has been in dangerous situations before and survived. The hacker’s message has nothing to do with Kai.
I convince myself it’s true, because my numbers aren’t there to prove me wrong.
Chapter 3
PRODIGY STEALTH SOLUTIONS HEADQUARTERS
AFTER SCANNING MY thumbprint, the door swings open to the headquarters of Prodigy Stealth Solutions. A receptionist greets me, I walk through another scan-door, and enter a buzz of brain activity—nerddom—that I love. My shoulders are still tense from my conversation with Kai, my mind still spinning from the hacker’s message, but everything about PSS is a breath of fresh air.
Large screens projecting virtual simulations cover the walls. The smartest kids I know are typing away in front of the screens, headphones on, absorbed in great discoveries or trying to solve some of the world’s most dire problems. Different labs are in motion, robotic stations are stacked high with wires, and prodigies cluster around whiteboards covered in complex formulas. Others compare data from different news sources for various thinktanks. Everyday math problems and world solutions and new inventions are debated and created. All this activity gives me a sense of purpose. Even without my gift Prodigy Stealth Solutions believes “once a prodigy, always a prodigy”. I want to prove them right.
A few eyes look up as I close the door behind me. Several of the prods who have become my good friends wave.
“Hey there, Jo-Bomb. Coffee’s fresh.” A seventeen-year-old tow-headed boy in a gray hoodie looks up at me. The freckles on his face soften his otherwise brooding appearance.
“Hi, Harrison,” I say. “What cup are you on?”
He spouts off a ridiculously complex equation that equates to three.
“Impressive.” I smirk. Harrison is not only a tech-genius, he’s also our lead analyst and news guy. He’s always watching for real-time events that could be of interest to PSS. “What’s new in the world this week?”
“Eh. Same old story. Global security in Iran. Crisis Management in Myanmar. Calls from the Global Economic Governance in Spain. The Indian Ambassador Prasad is going to call us for help soon regarding their new energy policy, I’m sure. MIT professors Salzer and Li are officially enemies over the theory of Quantum reality. G7 wants us to come to Camp David to discuss the new energy policies.”
“Aiya. Any lighter news?”
“NASA finally got their long-life, long-range satellite to work thanks to another anonymous tip. We may find aliens soon.” Harrison winks. He’s obsessed with space tech and anything extraterrestrial. “I just don’t understand why we can’t set up a PSS outpost near Area 51. We’d have better Wi-Fi, more solar power, and aliens…”
I laugh and turn my attention to the redhead to my left pulling out her ear buds.
“Hey, JoJo.”
“Hi, Pens,” I reply. “How many cyber-attacks this week?”
Her real name is Penny, but everyone calls her Pens because she can simultaneously write with two hands, two different reports. Her brain literally divides into two and can work on two things at once. I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s one of the three main hackers in PSS and a brilliant cryptologist too.
“Hundreds. It’s been really bad this week. But don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. No one has gotten through our firewalls, and I’ve shut down a mob of hackers. The US government can thank me later. How’s your father, any breakthrough?” she says, pulling her long red hair into a messy bun on top of her head.
I groan. “If my dad has his way, I’ll stay in Washington State forever, teach full time at the University, and never journey farther than a 10-mile radius from him.” I sigh. It’s getting tiring. This quiet life just isn’t me. It never will be. The other day I had to read the Chinese dictionary for fun.
“Don’t worry. Once your six months are up, you can take a PSS assignment again. Maybe even go abroad. Speaking of…how’s Kai?” Pens asks, waggling her eyebrows.
Harrison perks up. “Yeah, when’s my bro-crush coming back?” Harrison gives me a mock air-punch. “I’ve been working on my Kung Fu. Kai said next time he comes around he may even teach me the ‘death kick’ move he’s been practicing.”
My call with Kai rushes back to me. I consider telling them about it but decide against it. Technically, I’m not supposed to be in contact with him. They don’t even know what he does.
I shake my head at Harrison. “It’s not a death kick. And he’s fine, I think. He’s traveling now. Not sure when he’ll be back.” I put my bag down and lean over an Asian boy bent over his keyboard.
I poke his shoulder and smile. “Hey, Eddie, invent any new tech this week that won’t get us in trouble?” Eddie’s a wizard. Not only does he speak five languages, but he’s an inventor, an electrical engineer, and a music whiz. Some of the prods truly think he comprehends information twice as fast as a normal human, that’s why they call him “Sp-eddie.”
“Very funny,” he growls and leaves the room.
“What’s up with him?” I ask.
“Gov-Ops called about one of his inventions. It got vetoed, and apparently, we are on some kind of probation because of it. We have a meeting about it after acquisitions.” Pens shrugs.
Oh no. Poor Eddie. He’s new to the team. A pure genius but he’s 0-4 for approved ideas. Back in his home country, his gift was manipulated by a terrorist group for so long they kind of skewed his view on things. But Ms. T found him, freed him and gave him a chance to use his genius for good. His creations, though built with good intentions, always end up getting tossed into the PSS Blacklist—a virtual file containing hundreds of dangerous inventions that should never see the light of day. But here, there’s no shame in dangerous ideas. Without limits, kids and their ideas can grow.
That’s what makes PSS so successful—everyone here thinks outside of the box. They’ve been trained not to accept what others believe is impossible. They think beyond limits of impossibilities and probabilities. They experiment with everything in their genius brains, and no one tells them it can’t be done. Which is why PSS prods sometimes come up with unintentionally bad ideas. We’ve learned the question “What if?” can be dangerous.
What if the narrative of a nation could be changed with one AI computer program? What if we could carry undetected bombs in our fingertips? What if drones could manipulate the weather? What if one software program allowed a government unlimited power to any system they chose? What if we could have a truth serum activated by a kiss? Well. Those ideas, to mention a few, were blacklisted by the government. Mostly because their safer counterparts weren’t fully developed yet. Like FingerTips—there was no effective way to dismantle the bombs if they weren’t going to be used.
I take out my phone, eager for a text from Bai. Nothing. I text him another 911 then plunk it down in front of Harrison. “It’s been compromised again.”
Harrison brushes a blond mess of hair from his eyes. “Coral Hacker? Seriously? How did he get in this time? We’ve been sweeping for his malware signatures across all systems 24/7!” He squeezes his fist in the air.
I shake my head. “I’d really like to know.”
Harrison inserts my phone into the dock that allows him to access it with his computer. “I’ll run diagnostics again. We’re going to find him, lock him out of our systems forever, and bring him to justice. But dang it, if he wasn’t threatening our very existence, I’d give him props, and maybe even offer him a job. I admire his work.”
Everyone groans. “Harrison.”
“Fine. He’s public enemy number one. I’ll find out how he’s getting in and close the door.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling a bit conflicted. It’s the right thing to do but it’s not what I want to do. Ms. T is convinced Coral Hacker has probed our other files, and if he can break in here, he can break in anywhere.
A part of me wishes I hadn’t given my phone to Harrison, who will surely lock him out for another few weeks. That means a few more weeks without my gift. I should be afraid of this hacker. But I’m not. I can’t decide if he’s trying to help me or trick me.
I turn my focus to why I love Mondays. Today could be the day I have another breakthrough on my sims. “All right everyone. I’ll see you at the meeting after my sims.”
Pens follows me to the door. “Don’t hurt yourself in there, JoJo. You’ve been working like a beast lately on those sims. These simulations aren’t designed for someone to engage with them for hours at a time. And I’ve monitored your heart rate. It always skyrockets during phase three.”
I grimace. It’s true. I have been going a little overboard, but they don’t understand. At first, when the numbers all vanished, I made my peace with it. I thought it was a new start. But then, when they started resurfacing, and I remembered what it was like to have them. It made me miss them even more.
“Pens, if you lost your gift, you’d do the same to get it back. And I’m fine, really. Every time I go in, I get stronger. That part of me wants to return. I can feel it. I just have to work harder.”
Ms. T walks in. “Pens is right.” Her black curly hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and she somehow looks younger than when I first met her. “You need to take it easy on your sims. I’ve made you and your father a promise—and it doesn’t involve you burning out or going crazy. Now log in, then come to the sim-box.”
“Be right there, Ms. T,” I say, opening the computer to log in.
Harrison taps my desk. “Hey. That guy is good. Clean logs, no history. But you’re good to go. I double checked everything. No weird robotic voice will hijack your phone or your sims today.” He gives me a thumbs-up and I clamp down hard on a rush of disappointment.
Coral Hacker broke laws and the most complex electronic barriers imaginable to get inside PSS, and God knows where else. He’s dangerous, a potential threat, possibly malicious. Logically I know he shouldn’t be in my sims…it’s just that the robotic voice helped me when no one else could. I try to smile a “thanks” to Harrison but there’s an idea swirling in my head that I can’t let go of. PSS is determined to catch him, while I’m desperate to figure out who he is and what he knows, and why. The Phoenix in me wouldn’t sit around waiting for him. I know exactly what that girl would do. Which gives me an idea. PSS and I are both intent on finding him—what if we could both get what we want?
“Hey, Harrison,” I whisper before he walks away.
“Yeah?” He leans in closer.
“What if we could catch this guy?” My voice is low.
“What do you mean?”
“Instead of blocking him, let’s throw out some bait. Find his vulnerability. Then decloak him. He contacted me today. What if he’s still watching?” I glance over my shoulder at the room. No one else is paying attention but Pens.
“Ms. T would kill us. Any time there’s a breach at PSS, our information could be stolen.”
“Not if we get to him first.”
Pens creeps over. “I can hear you, you know,” she whispers, “it’s a totally stupid plan.”
I bite my lip. “Fine—”
“But I agree. I want to catch this guy too. No one breaks my code and gets away with it,” she says vindictively. Pens brags all the time that she’s written code since she was five. “Besides, I’ve never seen Ms. T want a guy taken down as badly as Coral Hacker.”
Felicia pops over, bumping me with her hip. “What’s going on? If World War Three is happening I need to know how to stop it too.” Behind thick glasses, a pretty girl with dark brown curly locks gives us a perfectly white smile. She’s a tech nerd with a hacking ability so great she had to sign agreements with the US government controlling what she can do.
Harrison fidgets when she joins us. He has it bad for her. She debates all his theories and messes with all his algorithms, but it’s obvious she likes him too.
“Coral Hacker,” I say. “We’re setting a trap for him in my sims.”
“Seriously? He’s a criminal,” she says, looking straight at me. “With today’s meeting, it’s not a good idea. What if he gets into our system?” Harrison nods at her voice of reason.
“He won’t,” Pens says, “Harrison and I will guard the walls like Godzilla. We’ll give him one hour to find his way in. When he does, we’ll trace the origin of his DNS back to his IP address. Then we find his identity and expose him for good.”
“You’d better know what you’re doing,” Felicia whispers. “Use our Rogue server. I didn’t tell you that.” With a wink, she slips away.
We all stare at each other as if we’re about to go cliff diving without knowing if there are rocks below. Then everyone nods silently and quietly steps back to their desks like we didn’t just plan an ambush against ourselves. But my blood is finally flowing again.
I sit down at my desk and log in. Harrison pulls up his hood, like he’s already hiding, then sends me a skull emoji and a thumbs up. Pens sends me a countdown of t-minus ten minutes. Time ticks by agonizingly slow until the final punch of a few buttons. They’ve unlocked a door and set a cyber trap, which means there’s no time to waste.
My heart surges as I stride into the sim room. My gift flickers, calculating the odds of Coral Hacker taking the bait. Even if it’s just for one hour, he knows things and I need to find out what.
Ms. T greets me at the door. “Ready?” she asks.
“Yeah. I’ve got a feeling about today,” I say, ducking my head for fear she’ll see through me.
“Hmm,” Ms. T grunts. She goes to the door and turns. “Try not to do anything reckless, okay?”
“Sure,” I say, but I know I already have.
Chapter 4
THE SIM-BOX'S WALLS are covered with screens, small speakers, and heat sensors. As usual I settle into the gel-body-forming chair.
“How are you today, Ms. Rivers?” Mr. Barrios, a senior analyst, says attaching the neural connectors to my body.
