Genius Squad

  Around the table, everyone nodded. Some even grunted through mouths full of risotto.

  "Unfortunately, they took us by surprise," Trader confessed, his fork poised above his plate. "If we'd managed to enter their building before they set up, we could have installed a few bugs. But they moved very fast."

  "And now that place is like a fortress," Cliff complained. When Cadel asked why, there was a general groan. Judith slapped down her ladle and went over to an outlet that was fixed to the wall above the sink.

  Then she flipped the switch and addressed the socket.

  "Dot?" she said. "Could you bring up your plan for number eleven, please? Thanks."

  As she settled into her own chair, Cliff began to describe Australia's new GenoME branch at number 11, Karajan Close, Burwood. According to Cliff, it was a freestanding structure with a drainage channel on one side, a gas station on the other, and a big cement car park at the rear. As a result, there was no way of burrowing into any of its walls from an adjacent building. In fact there was no way of approaching the branch at all without being seen. However, Cliff had managed to secure a plan of its layout from the local municipal council, because GenoME had submitted a development application before installing a laboratory on the first floor of its premises.

  "The lab processes DNA samples." Cliff paused for a moment, to swallow a mouthful of food. And Trader took up where Cliff had left off.

  "There are two lab technicians," Trader said, "who input Australian DNA profiles. The details are then sent to the U.S. for 'interpretation,' and the results come back pretty quickly. Over in America, GenoME has a huge databank full of node codes."

  "So the system here and the system there must be linked," Lexi announced. "It's our access point to the U.S. network."

  "Except that it's so well defended," her brother said gloomily. Cadel decided that Devin wasn't a particularly happy sort of person. While Lexi bounced, Devin slouched. It seemed odd that they should be twins.

  "Apart from the two lab technicians, there are five potentializers, one marketing manager, one receptionist, and two information technology people," Trader proceeded, listing the complete roster of GenoME staff. "And there's the branch director, of course. Carolina Whitehead."

  "She's our number-one target," Judith remarked, from the other end of the table. "If we can get something on her, it'll be a good start."

  "Why?" asked Cadel. At that moment, however—before anyone could respond—there was a disturbance in the pantry. Peering through the door of this little room, Cadel saw one stack of shelves disappear sideways into a wall cavity, along with their lavish stock of tinned fruit and condiment bottles.

  Amazed, he realized that the shelves were actually a heavily disguised sliding door and that the door itself belonged to an elevator. Stepping out of the elevator was Dot, who carried a laptop under her arm.

  "Ah. There she is," said Trader. "Can you call up that map for us, Dot? We need to show Cadel." Then, with a sudden smirk, he remembered his manners. "By the way, I don't know if you've been formally introduced. This is Cadel, your new colleague. Cadel, this is Dot."

  Dot made a clicking noise—which may or may not have meant "hello"—and deposited her laptop on the table near Cliff. She barely glanced at Cadel, preferring to focus her attention on her search for the required data.

  Cadel, who had just placed a wad of sticky risotto on his tongue, munched away desperately; he was keen to ask her about Com, and couldn't do so until he had swallowed what was in his mouth. But he wasn't given the opportunity to speak. He still hadn't finished chewing when Dot cleared her throat, stepping back from the computer screen as if to announce that her job was done.

  Cliff pushed the laptop toward him, indicating a portion of the displayed blueprint.

  "As you can see, the GenoME branch is three stories high, with a big warehouse area stuck on the back," Cliff said. Crisply he proceeded to label all the rooms shown in the building plan, including the reception area, the conference room, the kitchenette, the lab, the bathrooms, and all the numerous offices. He even knew which offices belonged to which staff members.

  Cadel wondered how.

  "And then there's the warehouse," Cliff said, tapping the screen with a blunt, squared-off finger. "What's interesting about it is that GenoME's put a demountable shed in there. We know they did because the building is leased, and GenoME had to get permission from the owner to install a shed. We also know that the shed is being used for secret meetings."

  Cadel blinked. "How?" he demanded. "I mean, how do you know about the meetings if they're secret? And how did you find out about the owner's permission?"

  Trader and Cliff exchanged glances. Wide grins blossomed all around the table. Finally Trader reached across and gave Cliff a playful jab on the shoulder. "We can thank Cliff for his work in the real estate agency," Trader said. "He's good at getting hold of confidential files."

  "And we can thank Trader's spyware for everything else," Cliff rejoined. "Laser eavesdropping is a marvelous thing."

  Seeing Cadel's amazement, Trader expanded on the subject. "We trained our lasers on some of GenoME's windows when people were talking inside. And we measured the vibrations of their voices on the glass." He wiped his mouth on a paper napkin. "Believe me, it's not foolproof. I would have preferred an old-fashioned bug. Trouble is, GenoME's security is so tight that I didn't want to risk arousing their suspicions."

  Trader described how his eavesdropping device had been set up in a series of different cars, and the cars parked in various locations near the GenoME building. From information collected during these "probes," it had been established that Carolina never seemed to discuss anything even mildly controversial with her staff in any of the offices. Occasionally, however, she would ask her second-in-command, information technology manager Jerry Reinhard, to "step out the back for a quick word."

  Jerry and Carolina were the only Americans working in the branch.

  "The potentializers all trained in the U.S. for years, but they were born in Australia and New Zealand," Cliff said. He was about to elaborate when Zac spoke up for the first time. Pushing aside his empty plate, Zac remarked in his gentle, breathy voice, "From what I've heard, they're true believers."

  All eyes swiveled in his direction. Conscious of this, Zac presented his argument slowly and carefully.

  "You've read the transcripts, haven't you?" he said. "I think everyone here would have to agree that most of the staff in that place are being conned. They all sound as if they're buying into the GenoME propaganda."

  But Cliff shook his head.

  "Doesn't mean a thing," he countered gruffly. "You know how security conscious they are. For all we know, there's a policy about keeping their talk squeaky clean in any room with windows." Bridling at Lexi's derisive snort, he added, "Hey—it's possible. There's a policy about everything in GenoME."

  "So what?" said Lexi, and Judith patted Zac's arm.

  "I'm with Zac," said Judith. "I reckon Jerry and Carolina are the only ones in that place who really know what's going on. Because they're the only ones who have secret confabs in the shed."

  "Boy, I wish we could get into that shed," mumbled Devin. And Trader said, "We have to get into the building first."

  There was a brief pause. Most of the diners had finished eating, though Dot hadn't even started. She was standing behind Cliff, attentive but expressionless, her hands clasped in front of her. It occurred to Cadel that she possessed the same slightly robotic air as her brother. Certainly she was no more talkative than Com had been. And her face didn't move much. Tony Cheung, who had also been very quiet, didn't seem nearly as detached as Dot, because he kept responding to what was being said, frowning or nodding or pursing his lips.

  "Any questions?" Cliff inquired. All movement ceased as Cadel found himself the object of general scrutiny. Even Judith had stopped eating.

  He gazed around, suddenly aware that he was the smallest person in sight.

  "I—uh—yes,"
he said, and turned to Trader. "Can I check out that laser eavesdropping machine?"

  Trader laughed. He pushed back his chair and jumped to his feet. Then he slapped Cadel's shoulder.

  "I think it's time you checked out everything in the War Room," he said. "I mean, who needs dessert when you can sink your teeth into the stuff we've got downstairs?"

  Then he conducted Cadel to the elevator, ignoring Lexi's protests about washing-up duty.

  FIFTEEN

  The War Room contained no windows. It was a large, air-conditioned concrete bunker, lined with desks and packed with technology. Cadel had never in his life seen so much cabling or hard-drive capacity stored in one place.

  "Disguising our power consumption is quite a chore," Trader admitted, stepping out of the lift ahead of Cadel. "But there are ways of spreading the load a bit. Hydroponic cannabis growers do it all the time." He stopped beside one of the pale gray desks—which perfectly matched the gray concrete floor and walls. "Here's your workstation, Cadel. And this is your laptop." He lightly touched a wedge of black steel and plastic. "As you can see," he said, "it's been custom built for our requirements."

  Cadel's breath caught in his throat. The laptop was like nothing he'd ever seen before; its size and weight hinted at the beefed-up capacities lurking within. Reverently he popped open the screen and ran his fingers over the keyboard.

  "Not exactly portable," said Trader. "Not for someone your size."

  "It's beautiful,"" Cadel breathed.

  "You think so?" Trader seemed amused. "I think it's ugly as hell, myself. Personally I prefer my technology sleek and slimline—otherwise you can't hide it." He spread his hands. "However, since you won't be getting out much, I don't suppose it matters how big this thing is."

  Cadel looked up, momentarily distracted from his loving contemplation of the computer.

  "What do you mean, I won't be getting out much?" he asked.

  "Well ... it's recon that does most of the legwork around here," Trader replied. "And we wouldn't want you going anywhere near the new branch, in case you're recognized. Don't forget that Dr. Darkkon founded GenoME. It's possible that most of the senior staff there know who you are."

  "Oh," said Cadel. He could see what Trader was getting at. It made sense to keep a low profile, though Cadel was anxious to inspect the GenoME building in person.

  Under cover of darkness, perhaps?

  "Anyway, you won't need to stake out that place," Trader continued, as if reading Cadel's thoughts. "Your job is to penetrate their computer network, and we've got everything you need for that right here." Flinging out his arms in a theatrical gesture, Trader indicated exactly what they did have. "What do you think? Pretty impressive, eh?"

  "It's wonderful." Cadel couldn't have been more earnest in his praise. After enduring such a long technological drought, he felt as if he had wandered through the gates of paradise. "Is this why everyone agreed to join Genius Squad? Because of all the equipment?" he said.

  Trader laughed. He informed Cadel that the motivations of their fellow squad members were many and varied. For someone like Tony Cheung, the motivation was money, pure and simple. Judith's rationale was more complex. She hated big corporations (having previously worked for one) and believed that they were responsible for most of the world's miseries. As a result, she believed that toppling a large and sinister organization like GenoME was the right thing to do. In fact, she was quite happy getting paid for doing what she normally did as a hobby.

  "Judith doesn't believe in paying personal income tax when most big corporations are tax dodgers," Trader revealed. "She likes ferreting out their dirty secrets in her spare time, and leaking the details to various government authorities." His green eyes crinkled at the corners. "Just don't get her started on the subject of tax havens," he warned, "or she'll never shut up."

  According to Trader, Zac's dislike of GenoME was more specific. In Zac's opinion, if GenoME really did have a gene-plotting formula, then this knowledge should be shared with the world. And if the formula was a fake, then GenoME was undermining the whole science of genetics and ought to be stopped.

  Cliff, on the other hand, was not nearly as selfless.

  "Cliff's been underemployed," said Trader, sounding genuinely sympathetic as he spoke of his colleague's plight. "There's not a lot of work about for someone with his expertise. Besides, he and Rex Austin go back a bit. He's done jobs for Rex before."

  Then there was Hamish. Hamish had jumped at the chance to join Genius Squad. He was a born hacker who wanted to pursue his interests free of the well-meaning interference of concerned parents, prying counselors, and suspicious teachers. Ever since his run-in with the Roads and Traffic Authority, Hamish's activities had been closely monitored. His access to the Net had been circumscribed. So he had been only too pleased to start throwing temper tantrums, running away from home, and pretending that he was on drugs.

  In the end, his parents had allowed him to live at Clearview House because they were at their wits' end. They didn't know what else to do with him.

  "Of course, he's a perfectly reasonable sort of bloke, really," Trader insisted. "All he wants to do is flex his electronic muscles a bit—and who can blame him? No one with a gift like his should be forced to rein it in. Not when it can be used against a criminal setup like GenoME."

  The twins, he went on, were neither as stable nor as disciplined as Hamish. Devin seemed to like destroying things: databanks, protocols, networks, infrastructures. And Lexi was a commonplace girl with a curious quirk. While for the most part she was "painfully uninteresting," she had the occasional flashes of brilliance in one very specialized field.

  "Cryptanalysis," Trader said. "It's her fascination with codes and ciphers that makes her so valuable. Devin's been putting it to good use. They're a pretty formidable team."

  "Why?" said Cadel. "What have they done?"

  Trader was taken aback. Clearly he found it odd that Cadel didn't know about the twins. But he answered Cadel's question civilly enough.

  "They've been launching attacks on the Advanced Encryption Standard, for a start," he related. "Lexi's obsessed with the AES. She won't leave it alone." He dimpled, and shook his head indulgently. "That's how I met them both. We had a mutual acquaintance who organized a timing attack on the AES through a very large bank."

  Cadel's eyes widened. Sonja, he knew, was quite attached to the AES—a system that allowed financial data to be encoded and exchanged throughout the world. She had told Cadel that she admired the Rijndael algorithm on which the AES was based because it was such an "elegant" mathematical equation.

  Somehow Cadel didn't think that she would appreciate having Lexi messing about with it.

  "Anyway, I figured that if I could get the twins focused on something a bit more constructive than trashing the global banking system, it would be better for everyone," Trader observed. "Especially since they were running wild. They've had a pretty rough home life, you see. No father. Mum's a drug addict, so their grandmother's been looking after 'em. But she's getting too old to crack the whip." He gave a soft chuckle. "Cliff and I—we know how to handle the twins. In some ways, it's just a matter of keeping them busy."

  Cadel's attention was divided. He had been booting up his laptop during Trader's long lecture, and some of its default settings were far more provocative than Trader's theories about managing the twins. But when Trader fell silent, Cadel looked up again.

  "What about Dot?" Cadel asked. "Why did Dot join the squad?"

  "She's searching for her brother. Or so she says." Trader shrugged, and lowered his voice. "To be honest, I'm not a hundred percent sure about Dot. She's a hard person to read. But Hamish vouched for her." According to Hamish, Dot had been making contact with as many "hacker types" as she could, in the hope that they might be associating with Com—who had disappeared after the destruction of the Axis Institute. No doubt Com was simply keeping quiet to avoid police interference. Nevertheless, Dot claimed that she was worried about
him. "Dot thought that you might know where he is," Trader said. "When she told us about you, and we decided to bring you on board, she agreed to join us."

  "But I was going to ask her about Com!" Cadel cried in dismay. "I've no idea where he's got to!"

  "Yes, you made that pretty clear the other day." Trader seemed unconcerned. "So I suggested that maybe you two could put your heads together. Trace him over the Net, or something. And she didn't have a problem with that."

  Cadel sighed. He had been searching the Net for months, desperately trying to find anyone else who might have been enrolled at the Axis Institute. There had been a handful of infiltration students who (if they had survived) would surely have popped up online somewhere. But if they were around, they'd changed their names. And they'd also managed to disguise their signature-programming styles.

  Cadel wondered if Com had changed his name.

  Maybe Dot would know.

  "And you?" Cadel asked, emboldened enough to challenge Trader. "What brought you here?"

  Trader adopted a relaxed pose. He folded his arms and cocked his head.

  "Oh, well," he said. "I suppose I just figured it would be a lot of fun." Then he smiled again, as if at a private joke. "I have to admit, I get bored very easily."

  He was showing Cadel the laser eavesdropping machine when the lift door opened and several people spilled out: Judith, Devin, Hamish, Cliff, and Dot. Suddenly Cadel was in the middle of a small scrum, as Devin and Hamish and Cliff clustered around him. Even Dot displayed a certain amount of interest, hovering in the background.

  Before Cadel could ask her anything, he himself was bombarded with questions.

  "What are you going to be working on?" Hamish demanded. "Are you on firewalls with Lexi, or exploits with me, or what are you d-doing?"

  "Has Trader shown you the schedules yet?" Judith wanted to know. "Lunches, dinners, dishwasher, and bathrooms. You all take turns."

  "Have you seen the background files?" Cliff queried. "Before you do anything else, you should have a look at them. They're under GenoME/data. You won't understand what's going on if you don't check them out."