Daniel Suarez - Daemon

“I was working under contract for another department, but Hadi requested my help. His development servers had become infected with what appeared to be a kernel rootkit.”

“And you have experience with computer viruses?”

Ross paused. He had to be careful here. “Look, I’m a database consultant. Computer security is part of my job. I know what I need to know.”

“Why did you make Hadi and his coworkers promise not to tell anyone about your help?”

“Because I was breaking the rules to help Hadi. That endangered my contract here. I made that clear to him.”

“So you were asking Hadi to lie on your behalf?”

“I was asking him not to tell people that I was doing his job.”

Sarkar jumped in. “I was requesting advice merely, Jon.”

Ross folded his arms. “Hadi, your exact words were that you had tried everything you could think of and wanted my help.” He turned back to Agent Straub. “A rogue process somewhere in his data center was broadcasting packets to the Web last night. Hadi couldn’t find it. The process was incredibly stealthy—possibly a kernel rootkit.”

Sarkar shook his head emphatically. “There is no way to hide the source of network traffic, Jon. I told you this.”

“Well, the test bed servers were definitely involved. Test servers are usually the weakest on security. They have beta software and they’re frequently reconfigured. So I had Hadi kill Icarus servers one through ten, and the packet broadcast stopped—even though it wasn’t supposed to be originating from there.”

Agent Straub nodded, taking notes. “So you knew right where to look, then….”

“That wasn’t my point.”

Agent Vasquez ignored the discussion and picked up the phone. He dialed while Ross glanced at the computer screen. Sarkar had the Event Viewer maximized. “I see we’re starting the hunt on my machine.”

Straub slid his credentials back into his suit pocket. “We haven’t ruled out an inside job.”

“Of course. Forget the fact that I was the one who advised Hadi to shut that system down. Hardly something I’d do if I was the one running the exploit.”

“You might, if you realized it had been discovered. It seems convenient that due to your involvement, the hard drives were erased.”

Ross was poker-faced. “The rootkit destroyed the machine when I tried to shut it down. In any event, FBI forensics can reconstruct data from a wiped drive.”

Vasquez hung up the phone. “They want us in the main data center.”

As they moved down the hallway, Sarkar kept groaning softly and shaking his head. Ross didn’t take the bait. Sarkar finally muttered, “Jon, I had no choice but to tell them.”

“Hadi, I’ve been in this business long enough to know better.“ Ross knew that no good deed goes unpunished, and though he hadn’t technically done anything wrong, helping Sarkar out with his little problem could result in the loss of his contract with Alcyone. Or worse, he thought, eyeing their FBI escort.

“They were asking questions about what we did. This is the FBI, not human resources. They talked to us separately, and I knew that Maynard would mention you. Jon, what was I supposed to do? I do not wish to get deported.”

Ross grimaced. “I should have known better than to get involved, Hadi.”

“I am not a Muslim. I am a Hindu. You will tell them, won’t you?”

Ross didn’t respond.

Sarkar looked genuinely pained. “I am sorry, Jon.”

“Ted Wynnik probably called the Feds in to force Accounting’s hand and have my contract canceled. He doesn’t like having people down here who don’t answer to him.”

“Ted didn’t call the FBI, Jon.”

“Then who did? You?”

“No one did.”

Ross stopped walking. “What do you mean?”

“They came here on their own. Because of what the Icarus-Seven server did.”

Ross looked back to the FBI agents. Straub motioned for him to keep moving.

Just what have I gotten involved in here? Ross wondered.

There were a lot of people in the data center. It was almost acceptably warm as a result. Sarkar’s boss, Ted Wynnik, leaned against a counter, glowering beneath thick eyebrows as he listened to two techs Ross hadn’t seen before. This was probably the A-team—the daytime shift. They looked at Ross with the special contempt reserved for young consultants.

Half a dozen uniformed Woodland Hills police officers were in here along with more FBI agents. They were talking with a network admin—a pear-shaped guy with bad skin. He was probably Maynard. Pear-shaped pointed at various server racks enthusiastically. At least someone was enjoying this.

What happened?

As soon as Ross entered the room, everyone stopped talking and turned to face him. The sudden silence was almost embarrassing because Ross knew he had none of the answers they were looking for. He decided to ask the obvious question. “Anybody want to tell me what’s going on?”

All eyes turned to someone behind Ross, so he spun on his heel to face a trim man in a crisp suit. The guy looked like a fifty-year-old varsity quarterback. A leader of men.

“Mr. Ross. I’m Special Agent Neal Decker, L.A. Division. Do you know why we’re here?”

“Because of last night?”

Decker sized him up. It unnerved Ross that no one was talking.

But Decker was in no hurry. He finally placed his hand on a disconnected rack server sitting on the nearby counter. “They tell me this computer killed two men earlier today.”

The shock took a while to work through Ross. He had expected some sort of child pornography ring or a credit card scam. “Killed? How?”

“I was hoping you could help us explain that.”

“Why on earth would you think that?”

Decker smiled good-naturedly. “A lot of people are suspects right now. But once we get the people in here to help us interpret the evidence, we’ll know more. In the meantime, we’d like to take you gentlemen in for questioning.” His gaze spanned the room to include all the men who were present during the incident.

A wave of dread washed over Ross. “We’re not under arrest?”

“No. I’m asking you to voluntarily come in for questioning.”

Ross wondered what would happen if he said no. Of course, he couldn’t say no. What about a lawyer? “I must tell you, I’m just completely floored by this.”

“I’m certain you are.”

This guy was disconcertingly calm. He gave the impression that he knew more than he was letting on. Goddamnit.

Just then a man appeared at the glass data center door. He was the linebacker to match Decker as quarterback. His casual confidence seemed to indicate he wasn’t FBI—the agents here were all keyed up in Decker’s presence. No, this guy was an outsider to them. The man rapped on the glass, and a Woodland Hills patrolman opened the door for him. The newcomer showed a badge and was let inside.

“I’m looking for an Agent Decker.”

Decker and the FBI agents turned and moved forward, hands extended. “Detective Sebeck. We spoke on the phone.” They shook hands. Decker turned to some of his crew. “Agent Knowles, Agent Straub, Detective Sergeant Peter Sebeck, Ventura County Major Crimes Unit. Detective Sebeck was heading the murder investigation up in Thousand Oaks.” Handshakes all around.

Then everyone turned back to Ross.

Sebeck pointed at him. “Who’s this?”

Decker leaned against the counter. “This is Jon Ross, one of Alcyone’s independent computer consultants. He designs their corporate data systems. Isn’t that right, Mr. Ross?”

“Certain systems, yes. Not this one.”

“Is he a suspect or a witness?”