Emily's Secret

17. Sal's Plan

"Why can't we go to the news websites?" I asked. "Tell them what's happening. That Googol Corporation is killing people."

"Do you know who owns the New York Herald?" my dad asked.

"No." I said.

"Serge Brine, Googol's largest shareholder," my dad said. "And do you know who owns the Washington Tribune?"

"Umm, no."

"Jess Beso, the CEO of Googol," my dad explained. "And do you know who owns I.N.N., the Internet News Network?"

"Someone from Googol?" I asked, now getting the the hang of where my dad was going with this.

"That's right! Lawrence Jobs, the Chairman of Googol's board of directors. None of the major news organizations are going to say anything bad about Googol. Googol owns them, in a roundabout away."

"But there must be some smaller newspaper that's not owned by Googol who would report our story," I said.

"Maybe," my dad said, "but it wouldn't matter. People don't believe anything unless it's reported by the big news organizations. They would just say it was a 'conspiracy theory.' Once they say that about a thing, no one believes it after that. And those few who do believe it are thought of as nutcases, and no one will hire them for any jobs. No one with any sort of career would ever publicly believe in anything labeled a 'conspiracy theory,' not if they want to keep their career."

My dad sounded kind of bitter about that. I guess he has a right to, given how he how lost is own career for tweeting the wrong thing.

"If we can't go to the news websites, then what can we do?" I asked.

"We can take Googol down," my dad said, sounding excited for the first time. "Totally destroy them!"

"How can we do that?" I asked.

"I broke into Googol's network by using my telekinetic power on the AI chip in one of their main security servers in New Jersey. And from that breach, I learned how to take over their entire network, at least long enough to install a virus that will destroy all of their computers that are hooked up to the network, which is all of them. Their company will be destroyed, they won't be able to manufacture any new computer chips or any new robots, they will have lost their power and money. They won't be able to hire any more assassins after that.

"And Emily, you're the key to being able to pull this off. We need to break into one of their root server nodes. There are two root servers that we need to break into at the same time, the main server and the backup. It will take two people with telekinetic powers working at the same time, one at each server. The two of us.

"Googol has a root node that's, conveniently, right here in New York City, in the sub-basement of Googol Tower, the tallest building in the United States. So it's the local node that we will break into.

"And even better for us, I have discovered that there's an abandoned subway tunnel that passes right alongside the sub-basement of Googol Tower, and there's an old door still there that was an entrance to the building that used be there before Googol Tower was built. That's how we get in!

"Will you help me?" he asked. "Help me destroy Googol Corporation and avenge your mother's death?"

I looked to Rob and Cherry, who had been sitting silently while my dad told his story. "What do you guys think?" I asked them.

"It sounds to me like the only way to end the threat is to do what your father says," said Rob. "And you can count on me one hundred percent to help!"

"I'm in also!" said Cherry, enthusiastically.

"I'll do it," I agreed.

"Excellent!" replied by father. "But there are several hitches. First, I haven't written the virus program yet. Second, I have to teach you how to disable a liquid gallium chip using your telekinetic power. But the biggest problem is getting you into Manhattan. It's impossible to enter Manhattan without passing video cameras and other sensors that are tied into Googol's network. They'll spot you with facial recognition."

"I can wear a disguise," I said, hopefully. "When I ate breakfast at McDonald's yesterday, I wore a hat and sunglasses, and I wasn't spotted."

"Unfortunately, that won't work," my dad said. "If you're wearing anything that obscures your face, including a hat or sunglasses, they will make you take them off. And even with your hat and sunglasses, you probably would be identified by the most sophisticated security sensors. A McDonald's in the boondocks doesn't have the latest security systems like they have at all of the entrances to Manhattan.

"The best way to hide yourself would be extensive plastic surgery to change your face, done by a plastic surgeon who's willing to bend the rules and not report the surgery to the national databases. Maybe my mafia contacts would be able to help, but I don't think I have enough money to bribe the surgeon."

"I can do it!" piped in Cherry. "If the plastic surgeon is man. No man can resist me."

"This isn't like getting some guy to buy you a drink at a bar," said my dad.

"Or like getting some guy to buy you a free Egg McMuffin at a McDonald's," I added. Unhelpfully.

"It will take time, but I know I can do it," said Cherry.

"OK," said my dad. "It's definitely worth a try. Let me do a computer search and see if I can find the right mark."

My dad went over to a computer that was in his kitchen (his house was full of computers), and started typing.

"Ah hah, this looks promising," he said. "Doctor Jake Maldives, plastic surgeon, thirty-seven years old, plead guilty to insurance fraud, had his medical license suspended for half a year. He is exactly the sort of shady character who would do something like this. And I suspect he likes pretty girls."

Dad turned toward us, and smiled with a big grin on his face. "I think we have a plan!"