Seizure Read online

  "Okay," she sighed, "so what've we got? We know he's a man or at least he does a good impression of one, anyway. He's arrogant, rude, violent, and had some interesting and chauvinistic things to say about Hillary Clinton."

  Kent nodded and took a sip of coffee. "But even without those comments he made, we can assume he's a man. Most hackers are males."

  Janet gave Kent a sly grin. "Yeah, except for me. But we also know he's around fifty years old. One guy asked him about Woodstock, and Ulysses said he wasn't even a teenager then. He's pretty indifferent about the subject of racism, so we know he's probably not a member of a minority group. So we've got a white male, under sixty."

  Kent shook his head and leaned back on the bed with a sigh. "Which could be pretty much anybody."

  Janet turned her chair to continue facing him. "But it's a start. We know he's been working with computers most of his life. We also know he's a very good programmer, but his code is sloppy. He probably learned it on his own, no formal training. We know he's a fan of Greek mythology, and we know he hates pepperoni on pizza."

  Kent looked down into his coffee. He could see his reflection in its rippling surface. "Which is a good profile, but it still doesn't tell us who he is or where he's from."

  "Yeah. He's cagey. Never answers any questions that could expose his true identity. The closest thing he's given to a real identity is that fact that he used to work for Katari."

  Kent studied faint wisps of steam rising from his mug. "But as what? He could've been a secretary for all we know."

  Janet pursed her lips, and nodded. "Most likely, he was a game programmer."

  "Great, but Katari released what, a hundred games? A thousand? We can't check all of them."

  Kent got up off the bed and trudged to the kitchen for more coffee. He passed Janet, who sifted through the articles Kent had found on the Cerberus-related deaths.

  "Hey," Janet called out to him, "did you notice a pattern among all these people?"

  Kent poured coffee into his mug from the pot. Clouds of hot steam rose up to warm his wrist, and fill his lungs with the fresh scent. "Nope. Why?"

  "That's my point," Janet said. "It's almost a little too random, spread thinly among the population around the world, as if someone was trying to make us think there's no connection. But ten of the people who died worked in the software industry. This one was a vice-president of Sunbird Computer Programming in Japan. This one was a marketing rep for WaveForm Software in Canada. Did Morgan have any ties to the industry?"

  Kent walked back to the bed, sipping his coffee. The burning sensation on his lips and tongue seemed to focus his thoughts again. "Well, a few, but everyone at Gaines did. We worked for several computer companies over the years. I can't understand why anyone would target Vic over the rest of us."

  Janet shook her head as she tossed the articles back onto her desk. "Yeah, but it's still too much to be ignored."

  He dropped back onto the bed, which bounced and squeaked under him. He looked over the sheets of paper spread before him. His eyes roamed the conversation, then locked onto one word. "I've got something. Listen to this. One guy asks Ulysses how he handles success. In response, Ulysses says he's had a successful game before and knows fame is fleeting."

  "Well, there's a clue." Janet scribbled it onto the board, then tapped her chalk. "Wait a minute. Suppose we connect this to the Katari comment. Suppose we assume that Ulysses programmed a hit game at Katari."

  He snapped his fingers. "And suppose we interpret that 'fame is fleeting' comment to mean the video-game crash of the early eighties, when the entire video game industry collapsed."

  "That was like the Black Monday of the game industry. Lots of game companies went out of business. And Katari was hit by it, too."

  "So that narrows it down. All we have to do is figure out what hit game Ulysses created in the early eighties."

  Janet winced and rolled the chalk around her fingers. "But that's still too broad. We need more to go on."

  "Let's try it, anyway. It's our only hope. You know games better than I do. Name some hit games of the eighties."

  Janet tossed the chalk into the air a few times, catching it as she murmured, "I dunno, uh, Ka-Boom, Pitfall, Barnstormer, Zaxxon, Bongo Congo, Donkey Kong--"

  She froze. The chalk dropped out of the air and landed on the carpet, where it broke in half. She didn't seem to notice as a smile broke out across her face. "Gorgon. Of course."

  "What's that?"

  Janet swept up the pieces of chalk off the floor, and gestured wildly with them. "It was a major hit. You played a guy with a sword who ran around the screen hacking at snake-women that crawled down towards you in waves. If they touched you, you turned to stone."

  Kent thought about it, then shook his head. "So?"

  She smiled at him as her eyes widened with excitement. "So a gorgon was a monster-woman with hair made of snakes. She turned anyone she looked at into stone."

  He shook his head again.

  She rolled her eyes and held out her hands in a pleading gesture. "Kent, the gorgon was a creature from Greek mythology."

  He smacked himself in the forehead with his palm, smiling sheepishly. "Of course. It's our man with the Grecian obsession."

  She clapped her hands together. "Exactly."

  Janet rushed over to open her closet door. She rummaged through the shelf over her head until she dragged out a large cardboard box. When she dropped it beside Kent, he could see it was filled with magazines.

  "Fortunately," Janet said, "I collect old video-game magazines. Somewhere in here is an article on the creator of Gorgon. And where there's Gorgon, there's Ulysses."

  Kent took a magazine and flipped through the table of contents. There was an interview with the creator of Pitfall, but not Gorgon.

  "How many magazines are there in here?"

  "About a thousand," Janet said.

  "This could take a while."

  "I'll brew more coffee."

  Janet refilled the coffeepot, and together they began to go through the magazines, one by one. Kent felt like he was going back in time as he thumbed through page after page with advertisements praising the revolutionary graphics of games that were little more than multi-colored stick figures. He lost track of time until he heard Janet cry out.

  "Ah-ha!" she yelled. "Say hello to our good friend, Ulysses."

  She lay her magazine flat on the bed in front of Kent. He found himself looking at the grinning face of a freckled teenage boy. It was a photo accompanying an article about Gorgon.

  Kent stared at the photo for several seconds before blurting, "This kid made a hit game?"

  "Yup," Janet said. "Rick Herring, one of the youngest and most successful programmers at Katari."

  Kent studied the photo, trying to imagine the face older. "He's gotta be in his late fifties by now, which fits our profile perfectly.

  "Yup. Article says he's been around computers most of his life, starting with a Sinclair, then moving up to a TRS-80 and a Tandy Color Computer. Rick is also a major fan of Greek mythology, and lists as his pet peeve...pepperoni on pizza."

  "We got him," Kent said, unable to hold back a triumphant smile. "We got Ulysses."

  "Sure looks like it," she said. "But this article doesn't say where he lives, and even if it did, it's decades out of date."

  Kent thought for a moment, then said, "True. But it does mention Herring used to be a member of the Southwestern Association of Computer Programmers. He might still be involved with them, in which case they'd have his current mailing address."

  "Brilliant," Janet said. "Allow me. Being sneaky is what I love best."

  She looked up their number on the Association's website, dialed it, and smiled. "Uh, yes, hi. My name is Janet Bourne. I'm a journalist from PC Weekly. I'm doing a story on the great programmers of the eighties, and I'm trying to track down Rick Herring, the creator of Gorgon. I found an article that says Herring was a member of your organization. I wondered if he's still
associated with you."

  Janet listened, and grinned at Kent as she asked, "He is? Well, that's great. Can I get his current mailing address? Perfect. Yes, I have a pen."

  Janet wrote down an address. "Good. Well, thanks. I really appreciate this. Okay then. Yes, I'll be sure to mention your fine organization in my article. Thank you. Bye."

  Janet hung up, then held the address high in the air. "We got it. Herring's current mailing address is for a computer store called GameShop in Phoenix, Arizona."

  Kent felt a rush of pride at her words. They had done it. "Bingo."

  Janet lowered the paper to gaze at it in awed reverence. "I can't believe we tracked down Pluto all by ourselves. I feel like Sam Spade."

  He took the paper from her to read. "These things really aren't that hard. I found that when I tracked down the man who hit my wife. A lot of the information we think is private is actually freely available. You can usually find anyone just by making a few phone calls. All you need is a place to start. Case in point."

  She nodded. "So now we know who created Odyssey. The question is, is Herring the one who created Cerberus?"

  He looked up at her. "Of course he is. Cerberus is right there in the programming."

  She winced. "Yeah, but I'm not sure Herring wrote it. Remember I told you that Cerberus was written flawlessly? Well, Odyssey isn't. From what I can tell, the guy who wrote Odyssey and the guy who wrote Cerberus are two different people."

  He tossed the address to the floor in disgust. "Great. So you're saying we did all this for nothing?"

  "Not necessarily. There's two possibilities. One is that Pluto wrote Cerberus into the programming for Odyssey without Herring's knowledge. The other is that Herring let Pluto write Cerberus into the game with his knowledge. If it's the former, that means Herring's innocent, but might have come in contact with Pluto at some point. If it's the latter, then Herring knows who Pluto is."

  Kent stared at the address on the paper lying by his feet. "So either way, Herring knows something. I have to talk to him. He's my only lead to finding out who created Cerberus. I'm willing to bet that if I can find out who's behind it, I'll be able to find out who killed Wayne, and get enough evidence to convince the police to stop Cerberus."

  Janet grinned. "Who's up to a trip to Arizona?

  He paused for a moment to think about what lay ahead. Then he climbed off the bed and pulled on his coat. "Me. But I'm going alone."

  Janet stared up at him as he buttoned up his collar. "Why?"

  "I can't stay in New York too long, anyway, not with the police looking for me. But I've already hurt my son. I won't let anyone else suffer because of me."

  She spread her hands as her smile widened. "You're forgetting one thing, Kent. I'm already involved in this, and I'm having more fun than I've had in years. Besides, as a virus-hunter, I've tracked down hundreds of virus hackers, but Pluto is the king of them all. I plan to be there when we nail him to the wall, so don't even think about cutting me out now."

  "Look, this isn't a game," Kent said. "These people are killers."

  Her smile collapsed into a scowl. "So what? I've been in prison. I've had lunch with killers. I know more about the criminal element than you'll ever know. Now I'm going with you. End of story."

  Kent was about to protest, then released his breath in a sigh. It was no use. Besides, he realized he would welcome her company. "Okay."

  "Great. I'll just go pack a few things, and we're off."

  Janet rummaged under the bed for a suitcase, which she opened and began to stuff with clothes.

  Kent folded his arms and leaned against her desk to wait. He wasn't sure this was a good idea, but knew he had no choice.

  * * *

  He's going to Arizona.

  Arizona? You don't suppose

  Yes, according to my sources, Kent has located Razor.

  I knew that stupid online chat idea of his was a bad idea.

  He promised he wouldn't reveal his identity.

  Well, obviously he was wrong. That was the only way Reynolds could have identified him. But Razor is such a conceited moron that he had to do it. Now it's too late.

  This is insane! He's gone too far! We have to stop him!

  This is all your fault, Pluto. You insisted on keeping up this stupid cat-and-mouse game of yours with Reynolds. Instead of killing him when we had the chance, now Reynolds is this close to finding one of us.

  Where is Razor, anyway?

  I don't know. He didn't answer our signal. Look, let's not panic. Even if Reynolds did manage to speak to Razor, there's no way he can find any of us.

  That's what you said before. You said he couldn't get any further. But you were wrong.

  She's right. Pluto, this is a direct order. You will tell Sonya to locate Kent Reynolds and terminate him as quickly as possible. And teach Razor a lesson as well. Understood?

  Yes, *sir.*

  Don't give me that. We've put up with your attitude for far too long.

  I founded this group. I made it what it is, I

  I don't care.

  brought you all together.

  I don't care. You don't own us. We're all in this for a common cause. You've almost ruined everything with your petty vendettas. It ends now. You will terminate Reynolds *now*. Period. Meeting adjourned.

  Don't you dare

  [Duke has left the room.]

  walk out

  [Cowboy6 has left the room.]

  on me.

  [Sapphire has left the room.]

  [Howler has left the room.]

  [Hawkeye has left the room.]

  Idiots.

  [Pluto has left the room.]

  17.

  A FEW hours later, Kent stood near the ticket counter of JFK International Airport, watching Janet buy two tickets on America West Airlines to Arizona. He wore a coat and a cowboy hat as a disguise, but to his surprise it didn't seem necessary. Kent had expected hordes of police officers to be scouring the airport for him, but so far, he hadn't seen anyone. The newspapers had photos of him, but no one seemed to be actively looking for him. Kent was learning that people weren't as observant as he had once thought. Still, just in case, Janet was buying the tickets for both of them in cash.

  Despite their precautions, they were prepared for failure. They had brought as much evidence as they could carry with them. In case they were arrested, they hoped to be able to convince the police in a last-ditch attempt about Cerberus. They both carried envelopes containing printouts of the Cerberus code Janet had pieced together, as well as news clippings about the VGRS murders. The envelopes also contained USB drives infected with the Cerberus virus from Troy's computer. Janet had found it on his hard drive as a self-extracting file of the game. She suspected it was a variation of the original virus designed to activate immediately upon starting the game. That explained where Troy had run across the cruise virus, although she still didn't know where it had come from. The program would come in handy if they needed to show the police exactly what they were talking about.

  As Kent mused on this, Janet hurried back to him with a broad grin on her face. "Bingo. Two tickets to Phoenix, Arizona, leaving in five minutes."

  He took his boarding pass from her. "Fantastic."

  "Hey, money talks, thanks to you. You know, you seem to be spending an awful lot of money on this. Sure you can afford it?"

  He slipped on his sunglasses. "I make a good living, and haven't used any of it in years. I figure this is a worthy cause. Let's go."

  They walked through the terminal down the corridor that would carry them to their gate. Kent glanced over his shoulder at the crowds filing down the hall with them. A woman in pink sweatpants tried to calm down her crying son. A thin man in a gray suit flipped through a copy of Newsweek. No one seemed to be paying attention.

  "See anyone?
" Janet whispered.

  "Not anyone I recognize," Kent said.

  She peered over her shoulder, following his gaze. "Who are you looking for, anyway?"

  "I'm not sure, but mainly a woman. Blonde. Over six feet. More muscles than Arnold Schwarzenegger."

  Janet winced up at him. "Think she was sent by Pluto's gang?"

  "I'm not sure," Kent said. "But I'm pretty sure...wait. There she is."

  Janet looked back at the rippling sea of heads behind them. For a brief moment, the crowds parted, revealing an enormous woman on the other side of the airport. She glared at Kent from under a length of blond hair that fell out from under her hat. She began to walk forward.

  "That's her," Kent hissed. "She's coming for us."

  Janet leaned closer to him, pressing against his arm. "They wouldn't try anything out in the open, would they?"

  He swallowed, watching the muscular woman drawing closer and closer. "I'm not waiting around to find out. Come on."

  He began to shove his way through the crowds, excusing himself to the passengers he dislodged. Janet followed him, looking back to keep an eye on their pursuer. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw the strong woman coming nearer with greater intensity, almost climbing over the crowd in her haste to reach them. All the while, she kept her eyes fixed on Kent with an animal hunger.

  Kent and Janet gave up trying to politely fight their way out of the crowds, and broke into a run. He could hear his breath huffing in his ears, but the woman's footsteps behind them came even louder.

  Kent and Janet ran through the airport, weaving through the crowds. The woman raced along behind them, not bothering to conceal herself any more.

  Kent passed a large rack of luggage hauled by a porter. He lingered for a moment to yank the rack off-center. It toppled onto the floor into a small pile of leather and cloth. The strong woman jumped over them, but landed awkwardly on a handbag and fell. She landed on the floor with a grunt. Before Kent could even feel relieved, both hands snapped out to push her back onto her feet with a scream of rage.