F Wilson - Fatal Error

A great lethargy came over him, and with it, a strange sort of peace. His oxygen-starved brain kept asking the same question, over and over.

Why?

With a sob he exhaled what he knew was his last breath.

"Are we ready?"

Ernst dropped his glass of water. It shattered in the sink. He turned, knowing who he would find. He knew that voice. But the kitchen was empty. He stepped into the living room/dining room area of his apartment.

The One stood in the far corner. He looked relaxed, his hands loosely clasped before him.

Ernst felt sweat break out all over his body. These unannounced appearances always rattled him. The man-well, he was something more than a man-had an unsettling ability to enter and leave rooms without warning, without a sound.

"Yes, sir. We are."

The One clasped his hands behind him and began to wander the living room at a leisurely pace… like a shark in a tank. He was dressed in his usual dark business suit. He had adopted his current, somewhat Hispanic appearance last summer: slim frame, soft features, darkened skin tones, mustache. He had never honored Ernst with an explanation, probably never would. Whatever the reason, he'd maintained the look. He stopped pacing and fixed Ernst with his abysmally dark eyes.

"Will it work?"

The dreaded question.

"I believe it will bring down the Internet."

"And that will extinguish the Lady?"

"The lore says she must be slain three times. The first death was accomplished by another hand."

The One's eyes gleamed. "Yes. That upstart mutant in Florida unknowingly aided us. She might have proven to be an asset, but she was impossible to control."

Ernst knew little of this, had gleaned only bits from passing references to the incident. Now was not the time to ask for more.

"I understand those circumstances were unique. Since they were not reproducible, we turned to the Fhinntmanchca."

"Yes. But that failed."

Ernst wanted to shout that it didn't fail-not completely-but held his tongue.

"Only because the noosphere was too strong."

"Will this succeed?"

"Yes, I believe so, yes."

"You do not sound terribly confident. And as I recall, this was all your idea."

Another wave of nervous perspiration seeped from his pores.

"Yes… yes it was. But we are in uncharted territory here. First, no one has crippled the Internet before, but I believe we have the best chance ever. The final piece was acquired just yesterday and we are set to begin."

"Whether the Internet is down or up is of little interest to me. I want the Lady extinguished-nothing more, nothing less."

"Yes, of course. That is what we all want. But as I explained last year when we embarked on this mission, I believe the reason the Fhinntmanchca failed to extinguish her-"

"She did cease to exist for an instant."

"Yes. And even though that was only her second death, she should not have returned. The noosphere should have been too weakened by the Fhinntmanchca to permit it. But she did return. The damaged noosphere was able to revive her almost immediately. That possibility was never addressed in our lore, because it was inconceivable. But the Internet, with its myriad human interactions, was also inconceivable in the First Age. It has energized and strengthened the noosphere to a level far beyond what anyone ever dreamed possible. After the failure of the Fhinntmanchca I theorized that if we removed that input, the still-damaged noosphere would be unable to maintain the Lady. It would have to re-create her from scratch, as originally hoped, giving you the window you need to allow the Otherness to achieve dominance."

"And I have allowed you a chance to prove your theory."

Ernst bowed. "For which I am honored. Still I must stress that it is but a theory. I have no means to test it, other than to crash the Internet."

"It has taken you quite some time to reach this point."

"Yes, even with the combined aid of the Kickers and the Dormentalists, it has been a massive, time-consuming undertaking. But it is the only means we have left to us."

"There is, perhaps, another way," the One said as he began pacing again.

Ernst swallowed. Another way? "What might that be, if I may ask?"

"You may not. The means have only just recently become available. I am preparing contingencies in case your grand scheme fails."

Ernst felt a sudden pain in his gut. It couldn't fail.

"I was hoping you had more confidence-"

The One's expression darkened. "After the failure of the Fhinntmanchca-not your fault, I realize-I cannot afford to take anything for granted. I've been so close for so long-"

He cut himself off.

Ernst realized they had both waited their entire adult lives for the advent of the Otherness, but the One had lived for millennia. By comparison, Ernst's wait was a mere eye blink.

The One said, "When do you put your plan into motion?"

"As soon as you say so."

"Then I say so. Why did you wait?"

"Why…" Ernst was surprised at the question. "As a courtesy. To be sure the execution date fit with your plans."

"My plans?"

"Well, you told me you were engaged in a project…"

The One had been away for months, appearing only occasionally. All he would say was that he was "down south" engaged in "a personal matter."

"Yes. That is in its final stage. In fact, I expect to have it wrapped up by the weekend."

"Then shall we set the execution date for Saturday night? If we release the virus now, we will be more than ready by then."

The One's eyebrows lifted. "It will spread that quickly?"

"We calculate global saturation within less than forty-eight hours of release."

"I am impressed."

"We have had the best computer minds in the world working on it for months. Jihad4/20 is so unlike previous viruses that no existing AV software will recognize it. We will introduce it to random email addresses. All the recipient need do is open the email. No link to click in the mail. Simply opening it will allow the virus in."

"And then what?"

"Well, it's what is known as a rootkit-"

The One waved a hand. "Never mind technological terms. Those sort of details mean little to me."

"It will access the address book and send email to all of the contacts listed, thereby entering all those computers where it will do the same, time and again, on and on, spreading itself across the globe in a geometric progression. But it will do more than merely propagate itself. It will take over each computer, turning it into what is known as a zombie-a machine that will do what the virus tells it to do, independent of what its owner wishes."

"But neither is anything new."

"True. And as the virus spreads, it will create a network of zombies-a so-called 'botnet'-which, again, is nothing new. But the pervasiveness and penetration of Jihad's botnet will be unprecedented, as will what the virus will tell its network of zombies to do on Saturday night."

Ernst felt a swell of pride as he thought about that. He'd come up with the idea himself. And it was brilliant-not because it was arcane and esoteric, but because it was so obvious, and so elegant in its simplicity.

"All I care is that it gets the job done. And it had better."

The implied threat doused Ernst's inner glow. "I have every confidence that the Internet cannot stand against it."

"Good. I trust the package I sent arrived?"

"Yes." A mysterious, locked, oblong box, three feet long. "It is safe."

"Then I shall leave you to your task."

He turned and started for the door.

"Oh, I assume you've heard about the baby," Ernst said.

The One did not break stride. "Of course."

"Why is the baby-?"

"None of that is your concern."

And then he was out the door and gone.