Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Installment 3


            I hate them. I really do.
            I mean, it’s not enough that I’m running for my life and trying to write on this thing -- which is much harder than I thought, by the way -- but I’ve also got them on my tail, interrupting me when I’m peacefully writing in Starbucks.
            Anyway, I think I have some time. I’m learning not to make guarantees, though, especially when it comes to how long I can write. And wi-fi. Don’t ever make guarantees about wi-fi, or how long it will stick around. I started writing this post yesterday, but my wi-fi went out on me.
            I just got told off -- apparently we only have half an hour. And apparently my “crazy blog that no one reads anyway” is “only going to get me killed.” 
            Man, I miss Clara.
            Where did I leave off?
            Okay…right. There we are.
            “How did you hack into my system?”
            That didn’t take any time to register in my mind. “What?”
            The young man waved his hand. “Come on, I know you must be some kind of computer mastermind to beat me and my system, so tell me how you did it.”
            “I…what?”
            Larson stepped in. “Look, he claims he doesn’t know anything --”
            The man interrupted. “Doesn’t know anything? What wouldn’t he know?”
            “Your name, for starters,” Larson said rather testily.
            The man considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Fine.” The half smile returned to his face again as he held out his hand toward me. “Travis Thatcher. Pleased to meet you, kid. I really do mean that, and just know that if it were up to me, you wouldn’t have to spend six months in juvenile detention.”
            I took a step away from him. “Back up a second,” I insisted, glancing to the other cops. “Juvenile detention? What on Earth am I supposed to have done?”
            Travis waved a hand impatiently. “Hacked into my system! Done the impossible! Believe me, kid, greater than you have tried and failed -- which is why I want you to show me exactly how you did it.”
            Larson finally decided to take control of the situation. “Look, Nathan. Have you ever heard of a program called Back Door?”
            Travis made a reproachful sound. “No, no, no! Don’t!” Larson cast a withering look at him.
            “Here,” Travis decided, “You head out for a minute, and let me talk to him.”
            I didn’t have the greatest faith in Larson, but at least he wasn’t accusing me of hacking into computer systems, so it disturbed me to see him reluctantly back up and exit the room, taking his fellow policemen with him.
            Travis stood with his hands behind his back, sizing me up, his half smile spreading into an all out grin. “Nathan T. Dalton…” He shook his head. “I didn’t expect you to look like this. I pictured your nose a bit smaller…” -- here he tweaked my nose -- “…and your ears a bit bigger…” -- then pulled on my ears -- “…and maybe your eyes a bit closer together?”
            Before he could touch my eyes, I ducked. There was a twinkle in his eye.
            “How do you know me?” I blurted.
            Travis crossed his arms. “I don’t,” he admitted. “Least, I’ve never met you before. Or seen you. So I don’t know you.”
            “But…” I protested. “But you just said you didn’t expect me to look like this!”
            Travis’ eyes widened. “Does that imply that I know you? Seriously, kid, I’ve never met you before in my life. So no, I don’t know you.”
            “Right,” I said, crossing my arms as well, beginning to feel a bit testy. “I suppose you just sat here, imagining what a kid named Nathan T. Dalton might look like.”
            “Mmm-hmm,” Travis nodded. “And I imagined your nose a bit smaller, your ears a bit bigger -- ”
            “Whatever,” I interrupted. “What exactly are you accusing me of?”
            Travis gestured toward the chair. “Sit down.”
            I remained standing. He shrugged and did the same.
            “See, kid, you did something that people have been trying to do for quite a while. You hacked my system. And believe me, no one hacks my system. I had a hundred experienced computer geeks in Washington try. Only one came anywhere close, but he ended up closed off, too. So imagine my surprise when a teenage kid ends up succeeding where they all failed!”
            “I didn’t hack any system!” I blurted.
            Travis’ little half smile infuriated me. I hated feeling like he wasn’t taking me seriously. “I like your username, anyway. Clever. It didn’t take me very long to make the connection back to you, though. You should be more careful.”
            “I didn’t hack anything!” I insisted, feeling my face grow hot. This was ridiculous. Sure, I was good with computers, and if I had wanted to hack something, I bet I could have, but I certainly hadn’t.
            Travis leaned in closer to me, and with a bright look in his eyes, whispered, “Now, kid, I know that, and you know that, but how are they supposed to know that? Especially when all the evidence points to you?”
            “You’re framing me?” My voice turned from fury to disbelief.
            Travis’ voice, in turn, returned to its previous tone. “I didn’t say anything like that. The point is that you hacked into my system. And my system is very important to the government, because it was guarding a very important program, which -- I assume -- was your target. Am I right?”
            It took a moment for me to answer. I didn’t want to give him a confession, since I certainly had not done it. But on the other hand, denying it didn’t do any good, either. So I decided to be cryptic. “Maybe,” I answered. “Depends what program you’re talking about.”
            Travis raised his eyebrows. “Oh, so we’re going to be clever now, are we? Sorry, kid, we’re playing by my rules here. This is the plan…” Again, he leaned in close. “You’re going to do it again.”
            “Do what?”
            “Hack into my system, of course,” Travis said in an exasperated tone. “I want to see how you did it.”
            Ten seconds turned into twenty, which turned into thirty. “And what if I don’t do it?” I finally replied.
            “Kid, you don’t have a choice,” Travis shrugged. “This is a matter of national security, so your guardians don’t have any say at all. You haven’t been arrested yet, but you will be as soon as we decide it’s necessary. And who knows? If you cooperate, we might be able to prove you innocent.”
            I was about to protest again, to scream at the injustice of it all, before something stopped me. There was something about the way he said that last sentence, his use of the word “we.” I didn’t trust this guy, not even close…but he spoke those words almost sincerely, and the half smile was entirely missing as he said it.
            So instead, I dropped my hands to my sides.
            “Fine,” I said quietly. “Where do we do this?”
            I’m going to miss our bus. Don’t worry, I’ll be back. I’d promise, but I think that you and I are both too smart to believe for a second that I could promise that kind of thing.
            To be continued as soon as I find wi-fi again…
-Nathan T. Dalton

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