Robin Cook - Shock

Joanna shook her head as if waking from a trance and smiled. "Sorry," she said. "I was just wondering about what you said concerning getting into the server room. How hard would that be once you were in the building?"

"It all depends," David said. "Obviously if they care about security, it's not like you can just walk in anytime you want."

"But it is physically a room," Joanna said. "It's not just computer jargon about something that exists in cyberspace."

"It's a real room all right," David said. "And it's got real hardware inside, which includes a keyboard and a monitor to access the central processor."

"How would you envision the room to be secured?"

"A locked door," David said. "All the ones I've seen have had a card swipe access. You know: like a credit card."

"Interesting," Joanna said. "If I were to get in there, what exactly would I do?"

"That's the easy part," David said. "You have some paper handy?"

Joanna pulled open one of the desk drawers and got out a fresh yellow legal pad. She handed it to David who proceeded to outline the steps that needed to be done. Joanna watched with full attention. At several points she asked for clarification, which David was happy to provide.

"And that's it," David said. He ripped off the page and handed it up to Joanna. She glanced over it again. Satisfied she had no further questions, she folded it and slipped it into her pocket.

"Thank you ever so much for coming over," Joanna said.

"Hey, my pleasure,' David said. He scraped back the chair and stood up. "Any time for a former classmate."

"By the way how's your Ph.D. thesis coming along?" Joanna asked.

"Now you're starting to sound like my mother," David said with a laugh. He gathered his floppy discs into a neat pile. "Unfortunately I'm running into a little writer's block along about the second chapter. How's yours?"

"Very well," Joanna said. "It's done."

"Done!" David squeaked before blowing out a lungful of air through pursed lips. He visibly sagged. "What a way to cut a friend off at the knees."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's not your fault."

"Maybe you should think about changing your environment," Joanna suggested. "That's what Deborah and I did. She's finished as well."

"Maybe it's because I'm not so fired up about Stochastic Processes in the Commodity Markets of Third World Countries any longer. But then again, who would be? Anyway, if I'm not being too personal, how are you and your fiancé getting along?"

"I'm no longer engaged," Joanna said.

David's posture improved. "Really? How long has that been?"

"A year and a half."

"Are you okay with that?"

"It was my idea."

"Cool. How about you and me having dinner some night?"

"I'd like that," Joanna said.

"I'll be in touch," David said. He pulled on his jacket and pocketed his floppy discs. On his way to the door he glanced over at Deborah's supine form. "Say good-bye to your roommate."

"I'm not asleep," Deborah said. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and blinked repeatedly in the light.

After another round of small talk David said his final goodbyes and departed. Deborah, who was still sitting on the couch, watched Joanna go over to the computer to shut it down.

"No luck getting into the Wingate's files?" Deborah questioned. She yawned widely.

"Not yet," Joanna said. The computer monitor went blank and the electronics unit fan went silent.

"Is David still going to try?"

"No, I am." Joanna walked past Deborah and disappeared into the bathroom.

"I'm confused," Deborah called out. "The reason you called David was because you couldn't do it. Did he give you some suggestions or advice that makes you think you can do it now?"

"We're moving to plan B," Joanna called out over the sound of running water.

Deborah stood up from the couch. She waited for a moment to allow a wave of queasiness to pass. Giddy with fatigue she made her way over to the open bathroom door and leaned against the jamb. Joanna was brushing her teeth.

"I'm afraid to ask, but what in heaven's name is plan B?"

"I'm going to get a short-term job at the Wingate Clinic," Joanna said through foam.

"You have to be joking," Deborah said.

Joanna spit loudly into the sink, then looked at Deborah in the mirror. "I'm serious. The only certain, expedient way of getting into the Wingate Computer files is to get into their server room, at least according to David."

"This is crazy," Deborah said. The sleepiness in her voice disappeared. "First of all, David doesn't seem to be the source of infallible information. When he got here he was sure he could hack into the Wingate computer, but he couldn't."

"He'd be able to do it, it just might take a long time. He knows what he's talking about. He gave me very specific suggestions once I get into the Wingate server room." Joanna went back to brushing her teeth.

Deborah made a gesture of exasperation with her hands then put them on her hips. She watched her roommate for several minutes before responding. "Won't this server room be locked?"

"Probably," Joanna said. She rinsed her mouth and plopped her toothbrush into the water glass business side up. "I'll just have to be resourceful. David thinks it will have a card swipe access. I'll just have to get one of those cards." Joanna started washing her face.

"Do you realize how insane this sounds?" Deborah said.

"I don't think it sounds insane in the slightest,' Joanna said. "I want to know if there are children from my eggs, and I thought you wanted to know about yours as well."

"Of course I want to know, but that's not the point."

"I think it is the point."

"Let's be practical about this,' Deborah said, trying to control her voice. "How are you going to get a job at the Wingate Clinic?"

"It should be easy," Joanna said. "Remember when we were out there they said they were always looking for people. They said that finding help was the downside of being in such a rural area. Well, I'm good at word processing. I'm sure I can find something to do."

"But they'll recognize you," Deborah said with a vehemence that bordered on anger.

"Calm down]" Joanna urged. She stared at her roommate who'd become red in the face.

"Don't you understand: They'll recognize you," Deborah repeated. "Probably most of the people we dealt with out there are still there, from the receptionist to the doctors."

"I don't think people would recognize me," Joanna said. "We were only out there for one morning a year and a half ago. Tonight David said he wouldn't have recognized me with my short hair if he bumped into me on the street, and he saw me at least three times a week for a number of years. And I won't use my real name."

"You're not going to be able to get a job without giving a Social Security number," Deborah said. "And the number and the name have to match. It's not going to work."

Joanna finished drying her face and stared at her image in the mirror. Deborah had a point she'd not considered. She'd need a name and a matching Social Security number. She thought maybe she could ask to impersonate one of her friends but dismissed the idea immediately. She couldn't knowingly implicate one of her friends in a scheme in which she'd be technically breaking the law.

"Well?" Deborah questioned.

"I'll get the name and Social Security number of someone who died recently," Joanna said. Vaguely she could remember reading something like that in a novel. The more she thought about it the more she thought it could work.

Deborah's jaw had dropped open at Joanna's latest suggestion. She pulled herself together. "I can't believe this. You truly are obsessed."

"I'd prefer to call it committed," Joanna said. She pushed past Deborah and walked into her bedroom. Deborah followed.