West of Nothing

52. The Invention of the Smartphone

The mood on the Internet had taken a turn for the dark. By this time it had dawned on most people that thousands of spiderbot sightings across the globe could not be explained by a couple shipping containers lost at sea. The tone of international cooperation collapsed as governments reverted to deflecting blame on each other. There were protests in Washington, Beijing, Paris, Seoul, Abu Dhabi. There were bomb threats on embassies and ethnic restaurants. Troops were placed on standby. The Homeland Security threat level was raised to red for only the second time since the September 11 attacks. There hadn't been any large-scale violence yet, but the tension was winding up and there was a sense that at any moment something was going to snap.

Meanwhile, a growing number of people were looking star-ward for explanations, although few were taking it seriously yet. In a standup routine, Jimmy Kimmel cracked, "Spiderbots were made by the Space Agency, all right—just not one of Earth's." It wasn't one of his funnier lines, but it hit a nerve. Saturday Night Live cashed in on the comedic action with a skit about an exterminator called in to deal with a spiderbot infestation who, through a series of extreme and inadvisable measures, winds up demolishing the place. It ended with a desperate call from Planet Xerxes asking if they knew of any effective means for getting rid of fire ants.

But most of the talk was not so funny. On YouTube, torture chambers now led Houdini acts by a wide margin. New videos showed how to build simple and effective traps. Someone had figured out that an oven's self-clean setting reached temperatures sufficient to cook a spiderbot's soft tissue. Ovens became instant incinerators.

Fortunately, Mason had plenty to keep his mind busy. With over a dozen X-Bots to keep track of now, he didn't have much time for web surfing or worry.

But then Major Zeus came striding in, a lumpy satchel cradled under one arm, and made an announcement that rocked the Bridge. "Carrie M. Ells. You are in violation of security protocol seven-nine-three, which covers the unauthorized sending and receiving of potentially sensitive information."

Who was Carrie? Mason was wondering when Corny stood up. "There's no need to cause a scene," she said. "I'm rather looking forward to a little down time. Maybe I'll take up tai chi."

"What's going on?" Mason asked.

"It's okay," Corny said. "I knew this was going to happen. I broke protocol by sending some emails to the outside world."

"I thought the web-mail sites were all blocked."

"I used a bot-chain, a little trick I picked up in an online computer course. I knew I would get caught out eventually. I'm surprised it took them this long, to be honest."

A bot-chain? That was some real hacker stuff, not something you found in a textbook. Where had Corny learned those kinds of skills? "Who were you sending emails to?"

Corny shrugged. "Folks. It doesn't matter."

A chat window popped up on Mason's screen. It was Gabby. Let it go, Peeps.

Did you know about this? he typed back.

Q:P It was an emoticon that could be interpreted as a silly face with a hat. It was also short for the insider code phrase the team had worked out: This Call is Being Monitored for Quality Purposes, meaning he should watch what he said because FN Security was listening. Well, screw that! He wasn't going to sit by and watch Corny get kicked off the team too.

Gabby must have sensed his hardening resolve. Pleeease peeps, she virtually begged. I know you have feelings for Corny, but now is not the time to play the white knight.