Read Online Antivirus (The Horde Series Book 1) by Michael Koogler - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael Koogler
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help, they had doubled their attempts. Apparently, though, Martz had rolled over on him after all and now the consequences would be infinitely worse.
“Lieutenant Martz,” Hawthorne said icily, not taking his eyes off the major. “What was the original projected sentience barrier of the project under optimal circumstances?”
“Approximately twenty-eight months from insertion,” she replied quietly.
“Which puts it at?”
“Approximately August 15th, two years from now,” she answered and then added. “Of course, that would be under optimal conditions.”
“That’s about twenty-five months from now, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
“Is it possible that barrier has been crossed already?”
“I don’t believe so, sir,” she answered.
“But can you be one hundred percent certain?”
She paused before answering. “No, sir.”
“Is it possible the virus has been compromised and beaten by a public or private sector hack?”
“No, sir,” Major Bolson cut in, but Hawthorne cut him off by slamming his hand on the table.
“That question was for Lieutenant Martz, major,” he said angrily. “You will shut your mouth and let her answer, do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” Bolson replied, snapping his attention forward while he silently seethed inside.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but the major is correct,” Martz answered, casting an apologetic look toward the major. “The program itself is encrypted like nothing else in the world and as it grows, it adds to the layers of encryption. Without the base key, which only we have, it would take over a year for even a Kray network to break it from the point that it started at. But as you know, the virus is continuously progressing, so the moment a code breaker starts on the encryption, the encryption has already changed. There is no literal way to crack the encryption without starting from the base.”
Hawthorne nodded, knowing that was the answer she would give. The major might be running the lab, but there was little the computer-savvy general did not know about the project which he headed. “So, we have ruled out program compromise and we know it hasn’t been killed on our end,” he said, referring to the fact that the final kill code for the project, in event of emergency, was his and his alone. “That leaves us with a multi-million dollar black ops project with supposedly infallible tracking algorithms, that has simply vanished into cyberspace.”
“Sir, if I may,” Bolson dared to interrupt, looking at the general and waiting to see if the man would stop him again. When he didn’t, he went on. “Because of what we know, it is my belief the problem is simply in the tracking code. I believe that all I have to do is find the error and insert a new tracking algorithm to re-establish contact.”
“It’s a virus!” Hawthorne shouted. “I trust you have honeypots online”
“Yes, sir,” Bolson answered.
“Have you had any hits from it?”
“No, sir,” Bolson admitted after a long pause.
“Then your reasoning is flawed, major!” he boomed. “And that leaves only one remaining conclusion.”
“What is that, sir?” Bolson asked quietly.
Hawthorne paused and glanced at the suited man, who had remained silent the entire time. Looking back at Bolson, he finished. “Your little baby has crossed the sentience barrier two years ahead of schedule and has decided it doesn’t want to be found.”
Chapter 9
Sherrard Residence, Helena, Montana: Jon Sherrard sat bolt upright in bed, the scream still lingering on his lips. Jen was sitting beside him again, her arms wrapping him up tightly and holding him close, shushing him as a mother would a frightened child. Truth be told, that’s exactly what he felt like. Two weeks ago, he had returned from an absolutely unbelievable and terrifying journey, his conscious reuniting with his body after being separated from it and lost for nearly three days in the very real and
“Lieutenant Martz,” Hawthorne said icily, not taking his eyes off the major. “What was the original projected sentience barrier of the project under optimal circumstances?”
“Approximately twenty-eight months from insertion,” she replied quietly.
“Which puts it at?”
“Approximately August 15th, two years from now,” she answered and then added. “Of course, that would be under optimal conditions.”
“That’s about twenty-five months from now, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
“Is it possible that barrier has been crossed already?”
“I don’t believe so, sir,” she answered.
“But can you be one hundred percent certain?”
She paused before answering. “No, sir.”
“Is it possible the virus has been compromised and beaten by a public or private sector hack?”
“No, sir,” Major Bolson cut in, but Hawthorne cut him off by slamming his hand on the table.
“That question was for Lieutenant Martz, major,” he said angrily. “You will shut your mouth and let her answer, do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” Bolson replied, snapping his attention forward while he silently seethed inside.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but the major is correct,” Martz answered, casting an apologetic look toward the major. “The program itself is encrypted like nothing else in the world and as it grows, it adds to the layers of encryption. Without the base key, which only we have, it would take over a year for even a Kray network to break it from the point that it started at. But as you know, the virus is continuously progressing, so the moment a code breaker starts on the encryption, the encryption has already changed. There is no literal way to crack the encryption without starting from the base.”
Hawthorne nodded, knowing that was the answer she would give. The major might be running the lab, but there was little the computer-savvy general did not know about the project which he headed. “So, we have ruled out program compromise and we know it hasn’t been killed on our end,” he said, referring to the fact that the final kill code for the project, in event of emergency, was his and his alone. “That leaves us with a multi-million dollar black ops project with supposedly infallible tracking algorithms, that has simply vanished into cyberspace.”
“Sir, if I may,” Bolson dared to interrupt, looking at the general and waiting to see if the man would stop him again. When he didn’t, he went on. “Because of what we know, it is my belief the problem is simply in the tracking code. I believe that all I have to do is find the error and insert a new tracking algorithm to re-establish contact.”
“It’s a virus!” Hawthorne shouted. “I trust you have honeypots online”
“Yes, sir,” Bolson answered.
“Have you had any hits from it?”
“No, sir,” Bolson admitted after a long pause.
“Then your reasoning is flawed, major!” he boomed. “And that leaves only one remaining conclusion.”
“What is that, sir?” Bolson asked quietly.
Hawthorne paused and glanced at the suited man, who had remained silent the entire time. Looking back at Bolson, he finished. “Your little baby has crossed the sentience barrier two years ahead of schedule and has decided it doesn’t want to be found.”
Chapter 9
Sherrard Residence, Helena, Montana: Jon Sherrard sat bolt upright in bed, the scream still lingering on his lips. Jen was sitting beside him again, her arms wrapping him up tightly and holding him close, shushing him as a mother would a frightened child. Truth be told, that’s exactly what he felt like. Two weeks ago, he had returned from an absolutely unbelievable and terrifying journey, his conscious reuniting with his body after being separated from it and lost for nearly three days in the very real and
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