G. H. Stone: Fatal Error

Silas Ek stood up. “Our discussion is at an end. Let me warn you that Oracle can file trespassing charges against you anytime we wish. If we hear you’ve told anyone about our location or about any alleged ‘computer virus,’ we will be forced to do exactly that… ”

Just then Ek’s eyes widened behind his wire-rimmed spectacles. He stared unspeaking over the heads of the guys at the bank of security monitors.

The Investigators turned around. Sparks were shooting out from the monitors. Loud crackling and snapping noises followed.

Pete saw smoke billow toward them.

“Fire!”

Pete ran for the door, “I saw fire extinguishers downstairs!” Silas Ek grabbed his telephone and punched buttons. “Maintenance? Ek here. I’ve got an electrical fire! Cut off the power and get up here with fire extinguishers!” As the lights went out, Ek called the Rocky Beach Fire Department.

Suddenly a few fingers of flames licked out from the video monitors.

“Uh — oh!” Bob said, sweating. “Every monitor’s hit!” Jupe cried. “Why would they all catch fire at the same time?”

“Who cares?” Bob said. “We’ve got to put out the fire before we turn into fried chicken!”

Pete slammed back in and tossed extinguishers to Bob and Jupe.

Jupe checked that they were dry-chemical fire extinguishers — the kind to use on burning paper, wood, textiles, liquids, gases, vehicles, and, most especially, electricity.

The three guys pulled the extinguishers’ safety pins, pressed down the top levers, and aimed the high-velocity streams of powder.

Just then the Oracle maintenance crew burst in with their own extinguishers. They lined up with the guys and smothered the blaze with a thick blanket of dry chemicals. At last the fire was dead.

“Those monitors look like they’ve been in a blizzard!” Pete laughed with relief. The white powder mounded over the monitors like snowdrifts.

“Thanks, fellows,” the crew chief told the Investigators. “You caught the fire before it spread into the building’s support timbers.”

As the crew chief moved his men out to fetch their cleanup equipment, Silas Ek phoned the fire department and told them to call back their engines.

When Ek hung up, Jupe suggested, “Now why don’t you phone downstairs for the head of your virus control team?”

Ek’s eyebrows shot up. “Now you look here, young fellow. I don’t… ”

But Jupe went on. “I read in Science magazine about a virus that interfered with the scan controls on two monitors and set one of them on fire. Maybe whoever planted the virus in your graphics computers also planted another one in your video security system.”

Ek’s severe face suddenly paled as he realized what Jupiter was saying. He picked up his phone. “Send Natalie Jordan up. I want her to do an autopsy on my video monitors.” He explained about the fire and Jupiter’s virus theory, and he hung up.

“Look, Mr. Ek,” Jupiter said sincerely. “I understand your problem. When companies are hit by a virus, they don’t want any publicity about it.”

Ek nodded his bald head and sighed. “Yes. It’s especially bad for a company that relies heavily on computers, like us. It could hurt our image. Investors might lose faith in us, and that could make our stock plunge.”

“You can trust us not to talk,” Jupiter assured him.

“Right, guys?”

“Right!” Pete said.

“Not even if someone bribes us!” Bob exclaimed.

“How about if it’s a foxy girl?” Pete inquired.

“Wel-l-l,” Bob said, pretending to think.

Ek started to look upset.

Jupiter whacked Bob’s back. “Ignore them, Mr. Ek. They’re always making dense jokes.”

Silas Ek tried to smile, but he was too worried. Just then the maintenance crew hustled in with mops and buckets.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ek said. Now that he had admitted to the guys about the virus, he seemed more relaxed. “Let me give you a real tour of Oracle. After you risked your lives, the least I can do is trust you to keep our corporate secret about the virus.”

“Hey, great,” Pete said. “Does this mean I can tell Kelly?”

“Sorry, Charlie,” Silas Ek said, grinning. “That far I don’t go.”

The security chief led the Investigators down the stairs and into another corridor that extended beyond the computer graphics one. Again one side was lined with glass windows.

“These are production rooms,” Ek explained. “This first one is the Matte Room, where our artists paint fake backgrounds to use in some of the movies and commercials we do.”

On the other side of the glass, painters were creating a black outer-space sky with silver stars and planets, a golden sunset that looked very real until the guys noticed that two suns were setting, and the pearly interior of a nautilus shell.

“That looks like the Forest of Mythology from Cosmic Trek !” Pete said excitedly as he studied a ceiling-high canvas. Populated with vegetation that grew naturally to resemble ancient Roman gods and goddesses, the forest had appeared in the first two Trek films. “Didn’t you guys win a visual-effects Oscar for the Cosmic Trek movies?”

“Yup,” Silas Ek said. “We’re getting the forest ready for a spin-off we’re shooting now, and we hope to win Oscars for it and for this year’s Cosmic Trek , too.” He led them to the next room, “Here’s the Model Shop.”

Inside, workers designed, carved, sewed, and painted miniature spaceships, cars, swords, and even fruit.

“Why do you have to make them so small?” Bob asked. He leaned over to stare at a cluster of tiny musical instruments — guitar, bass, drums, and sax.

“Because they’re going to have to move through space. The car and swords levitate in a movie, while the fruit flies through time in a TV commercial.”

“You do a lot of commercials?” Jupe asked curiously.

“They’re a big part of our business,” Ek said. “To give you an idea, the U.S. spends about two billion dollars annually making commercials, and more are filmed here in the L.A. area than anywhere else, including New York.”

“So we’re top banana instead of the Big Apple,” Bob joked as they moved on.

“Hey, scope this out!” Pete said, amazed, as he gazed into the last room.

Bob feasted on the sight of fabulous monsters, extraterrestrials, and other nonhumans of every size and shape. He told Ek, “No wonder you had problems with people breaking in to steal stuff!”

“It’s a real fantasyland,” Ek agreed. “We call it the Creature Room. Here’s where our artists create monsters and grotesques.”

“There’s the Grim Speaker,” Jupiter said. “See him, guys? He’s behind the gorilla with the parrot’s beak.”

Fascinated, the Investigators studied the popular environmental spokesman. Tall and angular, the Grim Speaker wore his usual long green cobweb robe. He had big strong human hands and a cat’s soft whiskery face.

“He looks alive,” Pete said. “Like he could talk any minute!”

“Good,” Ek said, pleased. “That means we’re doing our job. Now I’ve got a real treat for you.” He led them outside onto a sidewalk that wound around sheds, garages, and film lots.

“Check it out!” Pete said as he looked up at a bullet-smooth spaceship nearly three stories tall. It was coated with silver metallic paint and shimmered invitingly in the sun. Encircled by a low fence, the ship stood at the back of the Oracle lot. Tall, thick trees hid it from the street.

Just then a loudspeaker boomed. “Silas Ek! Silas Ek! Please return to your office!”

Ek smiled at the guys. “Maybe Natalie Jordan has some news for me about the monitors. You three go on into the spaceship. We built it for that spin-off we’re filming. See if you can figure out what its role will be!”