"Crypto's pitch black, dammit!"

"So maybe Strathmore's stargazing."

"Jabba! I'm not kidding around here!"

"Okay, okay," he grumbled, propping himself up on anelbow. "Maybe a generator shorted out. As soon as I'mdone here, I'll stop by Crypto and-"

"What about aux power!" Midge demanded. "If agenerator blew, why is there no aux power?"

"I don't know. Maybe Strathmore's got TRANSLTRrunning and aux power is tapped out." "So why doesn't he abort? Maybe it's a virus. Yousaid something earlier about a virus."

"d.a.m.n it, Midge!" Jabba exploded. "I told you,there's no virus in Crypto! Stop being so d.a.m.ned paranoid!"

There was a long silence on the line.

"Aw, s.h.i.t, Midge," Jabba apologized. "Let meexplain." His voice was tight. "First of all, we'vegot Gauntlet-no virus could possibly get through. Second, ifthere's a power failure, it's hardware-related-viruses don't kill power,they attack software and data. Whatever's going on in Crypto,it's not a virus."

Silence.

"Midge? You there?"

Midge's response was icy. "Jabba, I have a job to do.I don't expect to be yelled at for doing it. When I call toask why a multi billion-dollar facility is in the dark, I expect aprofessional response."

"Yes, ma'am."

"A simple yes or no will suffice. Is it possible theproblem in Crypto is virus-related?"

"Midge ... I told you-"

"Yes or no. Could TRANSLTR have a virus?"

Jabba sighed. "No, Midge. It's totallyimpossible."

"Thank you."

He forced a chuckle and tried to lighten the mood. "Unlessyou think Strathmore wrote one himself and bypa.s.sed myfilters."

There was a stunned silence. When Midge spoke, her voice had aneerie edge.

"Strathmore can bypa.s.s Gauntlet?"

Jabba sighed. "It was a joke, Midge." But heknew it was too late.

CHAPTER 62 The Commander and Susan stood beside the closed trapdoor anddebated what to do next.

"We've got Phil Chartrukian dead down there,"Strathmore argued. "If we call for help, Crypto will turn intoa circus."

"So what do you propose we do?" Susan demanded,wanting only to leave.

Strathmore thought a moment. "Don't ask me how ithappened," he said, glancing down at the locked trapdoor,"but it looks like we've inadvertently located andneutralized North Dakota." He shook his head in disbelief."d.a.m.n lucky break if you ask me." He still seemed stunnedby the idea that Hale was involved in Tankado's plan. "Myguess is that Hale's got the pa.s.s-key hidden in his terminalsomewhere- maybe he's got a copy at home. Either way,he's trapped."

"So why not call building security and let them cart himaway?"

"Not yet," Strathmore said, "if the Sys-Secsuncover stats of this endless TRANSLTR run, we've got a wholenew set of problems. I want all traces of Digital Fortress deletedbefore we open the doors."

Susan nodded reluctantly. It was a good plan. When Securityfinally pulled Hale from the sublevels and charged him withChartrukian's death, he probably would threaten to tell theworld about Digital Fortress. But the proof would beerased-Strathmore could play dumb. An endless run? Anunbreakable algorithm? But that's absurd! Hasn't Haleheard of the Bergofsky Principle?

"Here's what we need to do." Strathmore coollyoutlined his plan. "We erase all of Hale's correspondencewith Tankado. We erase all records of my bypa.s.sing Gauntlet, all ofChartrukian's Sys-Sec a.n.a.lysis, the Run-Monitor records,everything. Digital Fortress disappears. It was never here. We buryHale's key and pray to G.o.d David finds Tankado'scopy."

David, Susan thought. She forced him from her mind. Sheneeded to stay focused on the matter at hand.

"I'll handle the Sys-Sec lab," Strathmore said."Run-Monitor stats, mutation activity stats, the works. Youhandle Node 3. Delete all of Hale's E-mail. Any records ofcorrespondence with Tankado, anything that mentions DigitalFortress."

"Okay," Susan replied, focusing. "I'll eraseHale's whole drive. Reformat everything."

"No!" Strathmore's response was stern."Don't do that. Hale most likely has a copy of thepa.s.s-key in there. I want it."

Susan gaped in shock. "You want the pa.s.s-key? I thought thewhole point was to destroy the pa.s.s-keys!" "It is. But I want a copy. I want to crack open this d.a.m.nfile and have a look at Tankado's program."

Susan shared Strathmore's curiosity, but instinct told herunlocking the Digital Fortress algorithm was not wise, regardlessof how interesting it would be. Right now, the deadly program waslocked safely in its encrypted vault-totally harmless. As soonas he decrypted it... . "Commander, wouldn't we bebetter off just to-"

"I want the key," he replied.

Susan had to admit, ever since hearing about Digital Fortress,she'd felt a certain academic curiosity to know how Tankadohad managed to write it. Its mere existence contradicted the mostfundamental rules of cryptography. Susan eyed the commander."You'll delete the algorithm immediately after we seeit?"

"Without a trace."

Susan frowned. She knew that finding Hale's key would nothappen instantly.

Locating a random pa.s.s-key on one of the Node 3hard drives was somewhat like trying to find a single sock in abedroom the size of Texas. Computer searches only worked when youknew what you were looking for; this pa.s.s-key was random.Fortunately, however, because Crypto dealt with so much randommaterial, Susan and some others had developed a complex processknown as a nonconformity search. The search essentially asked thecomputer to study every string of characters on its hard drive,compare each string against an enormous dictionary, and flag anystrings that seemed nonsensical or random. It was tricky work torefine the parameters continually, but it was possible.

Susan knew she was the logical choice to find the pa.s.s-key. Shesighed, hoping she wouldn't regret it. "If all goes well,it will take me about half an hour."

"Then let's get to work," Strathmore said,putting a hand on her shoulder and leading her through the darknesstoward Node 3.

Above them, a star-filled sky had stretched itself across thedome. Susan wondered if David could see the same stars fromSeville.

As they approached the heavy gla.s.s doors of Node 3, Strathmoreswore under his breath. The Node 3 keypad was unlit, and the doorswere dead.

"d.a.m.n it," he said. "No power. Iforgot."

Strathmore studied the sliding doors. He placed his palms flatagainst the gla.s.s. Then he leaned sideways trying to slide themopen. His hands were sweaty and slipped. He wiped them on his pantsand tried again. This time the doors slid open a tiny crack.

Susan, sensing progress, got in behind Strathmore and they bothpushed together. The doors slid open about an inch. They held it amoment, but the pressure was too great.

The doors sprang shutagain. "Hold on," Susan said, repositioning herself in frontof Strathmore. "Okay, now try."

They heaved. Again the door opened only about an inch. A faintray of blue light appeared from inside Node 3; the terminals werestill on; they were considered critical to TRANSLTR and werereceiving aux power.

Susan dug the toe of her Ferragamo's into the floor andpushed harder. The door started to move. Strathmore moved to get abetter angle. Centering his palms on the left slider, he pushedstraight back. Susan pushed the right slider in the oppositedirection. Slowly, arduously, the doors began to separate. Theywere now almost a foot apart.

"Don't let go," Strathmore said, panting as theypushed harder. "Just a little farther."

Susan repositioned herself with her shoulder in the crack. Shepushed again, this time with a better angle. The doors fought backagainst her.

Before Strathmore could stop her, Susan squeezed her slenderbody into the opening.

Strathmore protested, but she was intent.She wanted out of Crypto, and she knew Strathmore well enough toknow she wasn't going anywhere until Hale's pa.s.s-key wasfound.

She centered herself in the opening and pushed with all herstrength. The doors seemed to push back. Suddenly Susan lost hergrip. The doors sprang toward her.

Strathmore fought to hold themoff, but it was too much. Just as the doors slammed shut, Susansqueezed through and collapsed on the other side.

The commander fought to reopen the door a tiny sliver. He puthis face to the narrow crack. "Jesus, Susan-are youokay?"

Susan stood up and brushed herself off. "Fine."

She looked around. Node 3 was deserted, lit only by the computermonitors. The bluish shadows gave the place a ghostly ambiance. Sheturned to Strathmore in the crack of the door. His face lookedpallid and sickly in the blue light.

"Susan," he said. "Give me twenty minutes todelete the files in Sys-Sec. When all traces are gone, I'll goup to my terminal and abort TRANSLTR."

"You better," Susan said, eyeing the heavygla.s.s doors. She knew that until TRANSLTR stopped h.o.a.rding auxpower, she was a prisoner in Node 3.

Strathmore let go of the doors, and they snapped shut. Susanwatched through the gla.s.s as the commander disappeared into theCrypto darkness.

CHAPTER 63

Becker's newly purchased Vespa motorcycle struggled up theentry road to Aeropuerto de Sevilla. His knuckles had been whitethe whole way. His watch read just after 2:00 a.m. local time.

As he approached the main terminal, he rode up on the sidewalkand jumped off the bike while it was still moving. It clattered tothe pavement and sputtered to a stop.

Becker dashed on rubbery legsthrough the revolving door. Never again, he swore tohimself.

The terminal was sterile and starkly lit. Except for a janitorbuffing the floor, the place was deserted. Across the concourse, aticket agent was closing down the Iberia Airlines counter. Beckertook it as a bad sign.

He ran over. "El vuelo a los Estados Unidos?"

The attractive Andalusian woman behind the counter looked up andsmiled apologetically. "Acaba de salir. You just missedit." Her words hung in the air for a long moment.

I missed it. Becker's shoulders slumped. "Wasthere standby room on the flight?"

"Plenty," the woman smiled. "Almost empty. b.u.t.tomorrow's eight a.m. also has-"

"I need to know if a friend of mine made that flight. Shewas flying standby."

The woman frowned. "I'm sorry, sir. There were severalstandby pa.s.sengers tonight, but our privacy clausestates-"

"It's very important," Becker urged. "I justneed to know if she made the flight. That's all."

The woman gave a sympathetic nod. "Lovers'quarrel?"

Becker thought a moment. Then he gave her a sheepish grin."It's that obvious?"

She gave him a wink. "What's her name?"

"Megan," he replied sadly.

The agent smiled. "Does your lady friend have a lastname?"

Becker exhaled slowly. Yes, but I don't know it!"Actually, it's kind of a complicated situation. You saidthe plane was almost empty. Maybe you could-"

"Without a last name I really can't ..." "Actually," Becker interrupted, having another idea."Have you been on all night?"

The woman nodded. "Seven to seven."

"Then maybe you saw her. She's a young girl. Maybefifteen or sixteen? Her hair was-" Before the words lefthis mouth, Becker realized his mistake.

The agent's eyes narrowed. "Your lover is fifteenyears old?"

"No!" Becker gasped. "I mean ..." s.h.i.t. "If you could just help me, it's veryimportant."

"I'm sorry," the woman said coldly.

"It's not the way it sounds. If you couldjust-"

"Good night, sir." The woman yanked the metal gratedown over the counter and disappeared into a back room.

Becker groaned and stared skyward. Smooth, David. Verysmooth. He scanned the open concourse. Nothing. She must havesold the ring and made the flight. He headed for the custodian."Has visto a una nina?" he called over the sound ofthe tile buffer.

"Have you seen a girl?"

The old man reached down and killed the machine."Eh?"

"Una nina?" Becker repeated. "Pelo rojo,azul, y blanco. Red white and blue hair."

The custodian laughed. "Que fea. Sounds ugly." Heshook his head and went back to work.