Flicking
know.”
“Hey,” Andrea pointed excitedly at a blinking window. “I think the last search worked.”
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www.noisulcnocenogerof.com
“Oh thank god. That’s it!” Dorian said. His voice betrayed his excitement. He clicked on the link, closing his eyes.
Nothing Doing
The browser flashed several times, the link apparently redirecting through a number of pages. Finally it landed on a blog. The blog only had one entry:
WELCOME TO THE HOME OF THE FUTURE
“What the hell is that?” Andrea asked.
“Damn!” Dorian said, “nothing. The system hasn’t been triggered. Maybe they’re already dead.” He shuddered. “This way if someone finds the page, nothing happens. Makes it hard to search, and hard to find. And no links.” He searched Andrea’s face for reaction. She smiled back. Dorian wondered how she remained so calm. It was impressive how she didn’t react as much as he did. How she was able to keep her cool was something he would love to understand better. Not now, though.
A browser window flashed. Dorian flipped over to it.
“Pretty much anyone could put up a page with a bit of text on it. We’re counting on the fact there are billions of web pages out there, so finding this one on some site is as remarkable as finding a receipt lying on the ground.”
Andrea made a face. “Do I look like some wide eyed NooB? Save the patronizing explanations.”
“Sorry. Sometimes. Well mostly, people don’t get it.”
“No doubt,” Andrea huffed, “and copy down the URL. The system might be triggered later.”
“It’s our only choice, isn’t it?” Dorian sighed. “Not to mention we’re almost out of time here. Let’s go back to the hotel and try in six hours.”
That time, Dorian noticed, she hadn’t kept her cool quite so much.
“Hey, look at that,” Andrea pointed at the screen.
USER nil8 ENTERS CHANNEL
nil8: hey. how you?
“Finally. Hopefully he can tell us what’s...” Dorian started typing, his sentence unfinished.
Code: where in hell is everybody?
nil8: dunno.
Code: nobod been on for hours. thatz weerd
nil8: normal as shit to me.
Code: come on. always peeps on
nil8: not now, bud. but now there’s me, goddit
Code: sure. just can’t explain. a new flick out? you all pixing?
nil8: don’t u doubt. we be pixing soon nuff.
Code: when u last on?
nil8: few hours go.
Code: and?
nil8: peeps was here. I think they all resting.
“Something’s not right, no?” Andrea said.
“Right. I sent a fucking red alert. He’s acting like I didn’t do anything. Soon as he logged on, he would have seen it. And that’s if the text message never arrived.”
Code: and my red alert? Waz happenin wiff?
nil8: dude. thought u jokin. alls think same.
Code: u know its meaning. don’t give me shit.
nil8: my man, chill. weez nev use it. Not now either. maybe we weak, maybe not. where you at?
Code: that’s classified
nil8: just askin. We’ve been friends for long
Code: K. I’m in Boston.
nil8: shit, thought you were in big apple
Code: what? who tole u? why big apple?
nil8: nuffin. unlucky guess
Code: who are you really?
nil8: nil8 here. nil8 here. what hell u talkin’ bout?
Code: where is everyone?
nil8: nowhere.
Code: who’s been saying shit about me?
nil8: what u talking bout? Nobod said any.
Dorian started shaking, his head weaving back and forth. He typed furiously in a different window, his voice trembling. “I think nil8 is ReeperG.”
“No fucking way,” Andrea blurted.
“It makes sense. That’s where he got all the info. He’s wanting to throw us off track.”
“Do something. Write something. He’ll get suspicious.”
“Yeah, I know.” Dorian switched back to the IRC window.
Code: dunno. been busy. thought someone said somethin
nil8: nah. all quiet. I think people don’t like this shit with pixes no more.
Fingers flew. “I’m trying to get a trace on him,” Dorian said to Andrea.
Code: whatz next release?
nil8: hey. gotta go. later. Not for a bit. by.
USER nil8 EXITS CHANNEL
“Shit I lost him.” His heart sank.
“You didn’t get anything?” Andrea’s face fell. “We’ve only been trying to figure out who’s after us for ages.”
“I know. He must have gotten worried. Maybe I triggered an alarm. Or maybe he figured out that I was lying because he’d traced me. Maybe they’re on the way here right now.”
“Shit. This is crazy.”
“That’s him. I know it, right here in my stomach. Us Italian’s always know things in our stomach. It’s really really that shit bastard.” Dorian’s hands banged on the table, startling the other people in the small shop.
Hurriedly Andrea and Dorian packed their few things and left into the streetlight-lit night.
“At least we know it’s him,” Andrea said.
Dorian swallowed a wave of sobs. At least that.
Around 4am, after their alarms woke them from fitful sleep, they cabbed it to an all night internet café in Times Square. After the obligatory minutes of setting up the encryption, Dorian checked the web site again. Nothing.
“I need to set us up when we are ready to move,” Dorian said cryptically. He bent to his task, flipping wildly between windows.
Twenty minutes later he looked up in triumph. The harsh fluorescent light cast ghoulish shadows. He pointed to the screen. “Here are fake IDs and a credit card.”
“Ok?”
“We need a Hertz #1 Gold account. Wherever we go, we’ll need a car. And that way we can pick one up without speaking to anyone.”
“Ok.”
“Can you do it?”
“You mean hack an account? I’ve never hacked Hertz before.”
“Prove you can, Bunny,” Dorian smiled. “I’m too tired not to screw up.”
“I see,” Andrea laughed, “So this is a challenge, then, is it? I love a challenge.”
Dorian looked over at Andrea lounged on the bed, the hipster hotel room softly illuminated around her. She stared intently back at Dorian who lay on the other end. He couldn’t really tell what she was thinking. He was struck again, by how effortless she seemed. She could do anything, it seemed to him. Sure he was a better hacker, but somehow, she had the confidence. She had saved both of their lives. More than once.
A wave of thanks rolled over him. He needed someone he could trust. Thank god he had it.
“So who are the Deep Noders that nil8 will have lured?” Andrea asked.
Dorian hadn’t thought about it. That’s a bit of a stupid way to go about saving people, he thought.
“So there’s nil8. I’m pretty sure he’ll go, since it would be very suspicious if he didn’t. Then 70mm. That’s who we’re counting on to tell us where he went. Without that, I don’t think we have a chance. I know him best, too.”
“What’s he like?”
Dorian thought back. Even though he’d spent hours with these guys online, he’d never spoken to them in person. And they had their lingo online, so it was even harder. Of course that was intentional. They’d organized themselves so that no one knew anyone else. “He’s older. Like me.”
Andrea laughed.
Dorian ignored her slight about his age. “He was the only one of us that got Sin City so he’s a bit of a legend. After me, he’s got the most wins and often has the best pixes.” He trailed off.
“That’s i
t? How many years have you been doing this.”
“Three or four.”
Andrea shook her head in dismay.
“I think he’d be the first to be suspicious,” Dorian continued. “He’s really good with operational security. This one time, he thought the feds were on to us, and had us shut down for a month. We wiped our servers and our IRC channel. After a month, when I logged back onto my server, I found traces of someone having hacked in. He’d been dead on.”
“So we’re counting on him.” Andrea idly bunched up a bit of the duvet in her fingers, her head drooping, her face slack with sudden exhaustion.
“Yeah. Funny thing is he thinks he’s better than me, but he’s not. At least not so far.” Dorian stopped, his eyes misting over. “But I can’t get over nil8. Sure he’s a dark one. He definitely likes to see the blacker side of things. But I really thought he was a friend.”
“You’ll have to get over it,” Andrea said, motioning Dorian to come to her. He crawled across the bed until she could wrap her arms around him. He laughed, because her arms made him feel better. “Why are you laughing?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
Andrea gave him a squeeze. “So more about nil8. What about him? Other than that of course you want to kill him.”
“Other than that?” Dorian snorted. He squeezed back, feeling more comfortable than he had in a long time. “He joked a lot. Weird. He’s actually quite cautious. That’s what makes it all so strange. I think he’s a bit younger. I know, I know.” He patted Andrea’s arm. “Younger than me, ok? I think he’s East Coast based given the hours he’s usually on. Does that help?”
“Not that much, I’m afraid. But maybe that’s the point.”
“Yeah.” Dorian felt himself falling asleep, the warmth of Andrea’s body soothed him.
The hotel lobby seemed all steel and plexiglass to Dorian. He and Andrea had been waiting since their breakfast, tucked away in a few chairs in a nook. Light