Read Online The Lost Apostles by Brian Herbert - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brian Herbert
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a pulsing, bright red section in the upper right hand corner.
Over-anxious, Dixie Lou hurried over to her. Through bleary eyes she looked down at the computer, and only peripherally saw Malia move aside.
The Chairwoman sat down, inserted the microcylinder. The machine clicked and whirred as the dataload locked into place.
“Do you know how to operate this model?” Malia inquired.
Dixie Lou nodded, and asked for privacy. The woman stepped away.
Dixie Lou studied the screen, noted that Malia had made an Internet connection with her own codes. Activating a box to enter the word processing program, Dixie Lou brought up the Holy Women’s Bible microcylinder and downloaded it. Then, with trembling hands, she used her own codes to activate a deep-access keyboard. She typed in the UWW broadcast codes, then touched the transmitting button at the top of the screen. As the information was transmitted, sand dropped through an hourglass on the screen. In a few seconds, when this was complete, she repeated the procedure, just to play it safe.
It all seemed to be going through, but Dixie Lou had her concerns. Was this a real satellite connection, or was Malia tricking her? Dixie Lou couldn’t see any reason for such a ruse, since Malia might have killed her and taken the microcylinder—or destroyed it—if she’d had a mind to do so. Besides, Dixie Lou had been able to use her deep-access keyboard, linking to the UWW’s own Internet system. Even so, she didn’t trust anyone, and certainly not a stranger . . . especially not one from a different culture and religion. She erased the path she’d taken, to prevent anyone from retracing her steps—or at least to make it more difficult.
But on impulse, before deleting the downloaded Holy Women’s Bible from Malia’s computer, Dixie Lou did a quick scan of the contents, checking again to see if the formatting looked all right. On the very last page, right after the final words of the new UWW publication, she noticed a row of tiny hieroglyphics.
Calling Malia over, Dixie Lou asked about them.
“Oh, just a minor flaw in my computer,” Malia said, kneeling down and pointing at the strange symbols. “It’s difficult to get repair personnel out here. Nothing to worry about, though. I see that your files have been transmitted.” She pointed to a bar on the top of the screen, “See, it says ‘message sent.’”
Scowling, Dixie Lou deleted her file quickly, before the woman could read much of the ending of the holy book. As the UWW leader did this, Malia said nothing.
An irony occurred to Dixie Lou. If this was an authentic Internet hookup, dependent upon satellites, she was turning the tables on the Bureau—because the BOI had used satellites to spy on the UWW, and attack them. With the e-book publication of the Holy Women’s Bible —and she hoped it was successful!—the UWW was placing the Bureau’s anti-female religious beliefs into question, one of the most sacred foundations of their male-oriented organization.
And she thought of another irony. Under any interpretation, the new bible was a Christian book, but Islamic women were helping to disseminate it at a critical time. They might not be happy to learn that.
Asking for privacy again, Dixie Lou entered a complex series of codes to contact the UWW military base in Tunisia, where she wanted to set up her new headquarters. In view of the aggressiveness of the BOI, she needed to make certain that there were no problems in her path. She double-checked the codes, then wrote and transmitted a brief e-mail letter, including copies to other UWW military bases. Again, she saw the “message sent” confirmation.
Under the protocol she had established, she was supposed to receive an immediate response from Tunisia—but that did not come, not in the two minutes she waited. And, looking at her e-mail again, she saw the odd hieroglyphics there, too, at the end of her message. She hoped Malia was right and truthful, that
Over-anxious, Dixie Lou hurried over to her. Through bleary eyes she looked down at the computer, and only peripherally saw Malia move aside.
The Chairwoman sat down, inserted the microcylinder. The machine clicked and whirred as the dataload locked into place.
“Do you know how to operate this model?” Malia inquired.
Dixie Lou nodded, and asked for privacy. The woman stepped away.
Dixie Lou studied the screen, noted that Malia had made an Internet connection with her own codes. Activating a box to enter the word processing program, Dixie Lou brought up the Holy Women’s Bible microcylinder and downloaded it. Then, with trembling hands, she used her own codes to activate a deep-access keyboard. She typed in the UWW broadcast codes, then touched the transmitting button at the top of the screen. As the information was transmitted, sand dropped through an hourglass on the screen. In a few seconds, when this was complete, she repeated the procedure, just to play it safe.
It all seemed to be going through, but Dixie Lou had her concerns. Was this a real satellite connection, or was Malia tricking her? Dixie Lou couldn’t see any reason for such a ruse, since Malia might have killed her and taken the microcylinder—or destroyed it—if she’d had a mind to do so. Besides, Dixie Lou had been able to use her deep-access keyboard, linking to the UWW’s own Internet system. Even so, she didn’t trust anyone, and certainly not a stranger . . . especially not one from a different culture and religion. She erased the path she’d taken, to prevent anyone from retracing her steps—or at least to make it more difficult.
But on impulse, before deleting the downloaded Holy Women’s Bible from Malia’s computer, Dixie Lou did a quick scan of the contents, checking again to see if the formatting looked all right. On the very last page, right after the final words of the new UWW publication, she noticed a row of tiny hieroglyphics.
Calling Malia over, Dixie Lou asked about them.
“Oh, just a minor flaw in my computer,” Malia said, kneeling down and pointing at the strange symbols. “It’s difficult to get repair personnel out here. Nothing to worry about, though. I see that your files have been transmitted.” She pointed to a bar on the top of the screen, “See, it says ‘message sent.’”
Scowling, Dixie Lou deleted her file quickly, before the woman could read much of the ending of the holy book. As the UWW leader did this, Malia said nothing.
An irony occurred to Dixie Lou. If this was an authentic Internet hookup, dependent upon satellites, she was turning the tables on the Bureau—because the BOI had used satellites to spy on the UWW, and attack them. With the e-book publication of the Holy Women’s Bible —and she hoped it was successful!—the UWW was placing the Bureau’s anti-female religious beliefs into question, one of the most sacred foundations of their male-oriented organization.
And she thought of another irony. Under any interpretation, the new bible was a Christian book, but Islamic women were helping to disseminate it at a critical time. They might not be happy to learn that.
Asking for privacy again, Dixie Lou entered a complex series of codes to contact the UWW military base in Tunisia, where she wanted to set up her new headquarters. In view of the aggressiveness of the BOI, she needed to make certain that there were no problems in her path. She double-checked the codes, then wrote and transmitted a brief e-mail letter, including copies to other UWW military bases. Again, she saw the “message sent” confirmation.
Under the protocol she had established, she was supposed to receive an immediate response from Tunisia—but that did not come, not in the two minutes she waited. And, looking at her e-mail again, she saw the odd hieroglyphics there, too, at the end of her message. She hoped Malia was right and truthful, that
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