Alternative 3, p.14
Alternative 3, page 14
They spent a few minutes unloading their things from the back of the Hummer, and Gina set the bags out on the double bed. They were both aware of how far every sound carried in the desert, and acted as though it was completely natural to unpack without talking to each other. Eventually they ended up on top of the bags. It was Curtis who started the whispering first.
‘Fancy a hike as well? We paid for it already. Might be fun.’
Gina missed the sarcasm completely. ‘Curtis, there is no way, and I mean no way, that I am going on a hike with that man. Anywhere.’
Curtis couldn’t help but smile. ‘I thought you liked the great outdoors?’
‘I mean it, Curtis. If you think I’m about to hike in the desert dressed like this then you’re on your own here. I’d rather sleep in the car.’ Curtis got the message. Don’t mess with me.
‘Hey, I’m only kidding!’ He noticed how much more relaxed she was, now they’d established she wasn’t going to be hiking in the Nevada desert at night without her make-up. It wasn’t long before they heard their host–extortionist rustling around outside. Gina peeked through the torn curtain and discovered him preparing a real live wild-west campfire, complete with a small kettle and logs for seats. They decided to join the party.
As they approached, the guy didn’t look up. Uh oh, thought Curtis. Here we go again. Do the manners rules still apply out here? At least he wasn’t eating beans this time, but Curtis was pleased he wasn’t sharing a trailer with him. No wonder he left his windows open at night.
‘Enjoy the shower?’ Very funny. But Curtis saw the humour. Unlike Gina.
‘Even had time to shave my legs,’ she said. The sarcasm just dripped off that one. Curtis was wondering if he was going to have to referee the two of them, but the guy responded with the first proper smile they’d seen since meeting him. Surprise, surprise. He didn’t suffer from paralysis of the facial muscles after all.
He motioned towards the log. ‘Have a seat, I’m just brewing a coffee. Want some?’ Coffee. The magic word. The aroma seemed to make things ordinary again, as though it was completely natural to be sharing a coffee with a complete stranger over a campfire in the middle of the Nevada desert at night.
The bloke brewed a wicked cup of coffee — strong, black and beany. Curtis pointed to the array of aerials and dishes sprouting from the roof of his trailer. ‘That’s a serious set of equipment you got there, by the look of it. What’s it for?’
The guy shrugged. ‘I’m a bit of an electronics nut. Comes in handy around here.’
Curtis offered the hand of friendship. ‘I’m Curtis, and this is Gina.’ She waved at him from behind her steel coffee mug.
The guy responded with a shake. ‘Jim Maze.’ He said it so matter-of-factly that it took a second for Curtis to realise what he’d just heard. It wasn’t lost on Gina, either, judging by the sharp dig in his ribs. Curtis couldn’t believe his luck. They were sitting right beside the guy they’d come to find.
Suddenly the conversation became meaningful. One million dollars worth of meaningful. ‘You’re not the guy with the website, are you? I’m sure I’ve heard your name before.’
‘That’s me. Darned thing costs me an arm and a leg to run. But it’s my baby. And my insurance.’
‘Insurance?’ said Curtis. ‘Not sure I follow you.’ Jim Maze laughed. Curtis figured it was probably at his expense.
‘Well, the little hike I’m going on in the morning is pushing the limits of legal, you know. So as long as I keep running some of the far-out stuff on the web, people think I’m harmless. Keeps them guessing, anyway.’
Curtis’s confusion shifted to suspicion. ‘What people?’
Jim looked away. ‘The sort of people who keep secrets, and don’t want anyone else to know about them.’ Very mysterious. Curtis didn’t have the foggiest as to what the guy was on about. He didn’t push it.
‘So tell me some about the hike. Where are you hiking to?’
Jim spat into the fire. It sizzled loudly. ‘Out near where we shouldn’t be.’ Not particularly forthcoming was Mr Jim Maze.
‘You do a lot of hiking out here, then?’
Jim shook his head. ‘Only when I get some paying customers. I’m just the tour guide.’ This wasn’t making any sense at all. Jim must have sensed Curtis’s frustration, because after a few seconds staring into the flames, he said, ‘I advertise on the website. When I get me enough paying customers, I organise a hike for them. Usually only about twice a year or so. Don’t want to get too familiar with the security guys.’
‘So it’s not a nature walk then?’ asked Curtis.
Jim laughed at that one. ‘I wouldn’t call it that. Some kind of interesting wildlife though!’
Curtis wasn’t sure he got the joke. But he laughed along with him anyway. So he was some kind of hiking guide. Sure as hell didn’t look like one.
‘So how long is the hike? You go from here?’
Jim nodded. ‘We go most of the route in the pick-up. Just the snakes you gotta watch.’ Snakes. He could sense Gina stiffen beside him, and carefully check the ground around her.
Jim must have noticed too. ‘Oh, we’re all right here. All the beans I’ve eaten tonight there won’t be a snake for miles.’ Funny guy — he must have seen Blazing Saddles too.
‘So how long you been running the site?’ Curtis wanted to know more about Jim Maze. Lots more.
‘Oh, I don’t know. About three years, I guess. The Feds shut me down a couple of times when I posted some government stuff they didn’t like. Turns out whoever sent it to me had hacked it from their computers. They hate to think people might see their dirty laundry.’ Wow. This was serious wacko territory.
Curtis decided to cut straight to the chase. The game-playing was getting tiresome. He knew what he wanted — what he needed. ‘I was really blown away by those two mpegs of UFOs you got on the site. You know — Hitler escaping Berlin and the one over the ice? Pretty amazing stuff if it’s true.’
Curtis watched Jim closely, as he nodded thoughtfully. ‘Say that again. It’s the best evidence I’ve seen yet. There’s no way anyone could fake those. And if they did they wouldn’t have done such a bad job.’
‘Where’d you get them?’ Curtis asked innocently.
Jim shrugged. ‘They just arrived by email. Totally anonymous. And that’s another thing. If someone was going to take the trouble to fake them, they’d sure as hell want some credit for the effort. But these just arrived one day out of the blue. No return address, nothing.’ Curtis nodded silently. Shit. But he didn’t want to let the subject slip.
‘You said they’re the best evidence. Evidence of what?’
Jim shook his head knowingly. ‘Well, let’s just say it’s a bigger jigsaw puzzle than you or I could ever imagine. They’re just two small pieces. Hard to tell what the picture is of, until you see more. But it doesn’t stop us guessing, and when we get a reaction we know we’re getting close to something worth hiding. That’s kinda the way it works.’ But the question brought a change in Jim along with the answer. He looked Curtis and Gina over for a second. The same way he’d done back at the A-Lee-Inn.
‘Tell me about yourselves. What brings a nice couple like you out here in the middle of the night to go hiking to a secret military installation?’ Curtis caught himself before he gave the game away. He certainly wasn’t expecting that one. Did he say secret military installation? So that was what all this cloak and dagger was about. Luckily for Curtis, Gina had her wits about her.
‘We’re both computer-studies students. We met at DefCon — it’s a convention for . . . for internet-security consultants. We saw your website and here we are.’
Jim didn’t look all that convinced. Curtis wouldn’t have been either, but it was all he was going to get at short notice. Jim gave them the once-over again. He even checked out the Hummer this time. What the hell was he thinking?
‘You look like a couple of undercover Feds to me.’ Curtis was dumbfounded. He and Gina looked at each other, and couldn’t help smiling a little at the thought of them, of all people, being considered Feds.
‘Mr Maze, I can assure you that we are not Feds,’ said Curtis, as straight-faced as he could.
‘How?’ came the reply. Straight-faced and serious.
Curtis didn’t understand. ‘How, what?’
‘How are you going to assure me that you’re not Feds? Because until you do, our conversation is limited to how-d’you-dos and excuse-mes.’ Shit. Curtis hadn’t been expecting this at all. He’d never had to prove he wasn’t a good guy. Usually it was the other way round. It was time for him to get creative.
‘I have a criminal record, and I’m on parole for accessing computer systems without the owners’ knowledge. Will that do?’
Jim shrugged. ‘Not unless you can prove it. So you’re a hacker. Heard about them. You good?’
Gina came in on cue. ‘He’s very good, Mr Maze. One of the best.’
Another shrug. ‘Not good enough, sounds like.’
Curtis smiled self-consciously. ‘That was a long time ago. I was just a kid.’
‘What did you do?’ It was Jim’s turn to get curious. But Curtis wasn’t ready to get into details. Besides, he had an idea.
‘Look, Mr Maze, if you let me use your computer I can prove it to you. Right here, right now.’ Jim thought about that for a second, staring hard into Curtis’s eyes. Curtis eyeballed him back to show that he was serious.
Finally he said, ‘OK, let’s go into the Palace and you can strut your stuff. But I don’t have all night, you know.’
Curtis jumped at the opportunity. ‘Won’t take 20 minutes. If you leave me alone to work on it for a bit, I’ll call you when I’ve got the proof on screen. How’s that?’ He only needed a few minutes to locate and copy the email.
But Jim wasn’t having any of that. ‘No way, mister. I’ll be watching every move you make the whole time.’
Curtis saw the chance to access Jim’s emails vaporise before him. So he went with the play. ‘OK, no problem.’
Jim got up from the campfire. ‘This way.’ Gina threw Curtis an urgent look as they followed him. Curtis shrugged. It said he was just playing this as it went, and they might as well just go with it. She didn’t look like she approved.
Jim Maze’s trailer took after its owner’s name. It was truly something to behold. A maze of maps, photos and documents on the walls, table, bed and floor. Computer equipment, satellite stuff and what looked like some high-tech electronic radio gear all crammed into a single room. In the dim light of one wall lamp and a single computer screen, it even looked kinda spooky.
The computer was the cockpit, the screen proudly displaying the ConspiracyWatch homepage. Jim pulled back the chair and made Curtis some space. ‘Not much room in here for three, but it’s home for me so excuse the mess.’ Curtis settled into the chair and started typing and clicking. He could sense Jim and Gina watching him closely. Better make this good. Curtis exited from the homepage and telnetted into a backdoor entry of a site he knew already existed. He knew that because he’d done this once before. Just after he’d been sentenced.
He’d done it more out of spite than anything else. And anger — though mostly at himself for getting caught, he had to admit. Just to prove to himself he was better than that. Soon he had a request for a username and password up on the screen. He typed in a name — Terry Hay. Sorry Terry, but what you don’t know won’t hurt you. Curtis rattled off the password quickly, to make sure Jim couldn’t see what buttons he was hitting. He wanted to be safe even in the dim light of the trailer.
Bingo. He was in. Now Jim could see exactly what system he was accessing.
‘This is the FBI investigations database.’ So he could read.
Curtis didn’t look up, ‘Uh huh.’ He clicked on the national search facility and entered his own name. Curtis Hatch. And hit the search button.
Instantly the screen filled with a profile sheet displaying his own stats and the mugshot they’d taken when they took him in for questioning. And arrest. He was younger then, but there was no mistaking the good-looking dude peering out at them from the screen. Curtis felt mildly embarrassed at the picture. Not one of his prouder moments, that was for sure. He didn’t know what Gina was going to make of this.
He got out of the seat so Jim could read the screen. He already had a pair of frameless glasses on his nose, as he squinted at the picture.
‘Is that proof enough?’ Curtis asked, looking at Gina for a reaction to the news she’d been sleeping with a criminal. She didn’t seem to care, or perhaps she was doing a very good job of pretending not to.
Jim took his glasses off, and extended his hand. ‘That will do nicely, thank you, Curtis. Hope I didn’t offend you. But I’ve learned from experience that it pays to be safe than sorry.’ Curtis took his hand. It was the second time he’d shaken Jim’s hand, but he felt it was the first time it was actually meant.
Gina still hadn’t said a word. Curtis logged out and Jim’s familiar homepage returned to the screen. It seemed that Curtis was now a member of some sort of club, because Jim’s demeanour changed noticeably for the better.
‘I could sure use another coffee, and judging by the way you emptied the last cup, you’re probably itching for another one too, right?’ He was looking at Gina now.
‘Yes, please,’ she said. ‘Tastes much better than some of the filter we got in Vegas.’
Jim smiled warmly as he ushered them out of his ‘palace’. ‘Well that would be the desert dust and bugs at the bottom of the kettle. Haven’t washed it out for at least two months.’ The icebreaker was welcome after the earlier awkwardness. Jim even seemed slightly human now.
‘You play chess?’ he asked out of the blue. Chess! Curtis figured this must be Jim’s version of the olive branch.
‘Umm . . . sure. I downloaded a learner programme once. Beat me every time.’
Jim shook his head in disgust. ‘A programme! Chess is a game to be played by people, not bloody computers.’
Curtis pulled a face. He half-agreed. ‘It’s just a case of computing all the possible combinations of moves and choosing the best one. That needs computing power, so a chess computer would beat a human every time. The human brain doesn’t have the capacity to calculate that much information at once.’
Jim snorted a laugh in mock disgust. ‘You kids. Computers are the answer to everything.’ Curtis didn’t appreciate either implication — that he was a kid, or that he was a member of the computer holy-grail club.
But Jim wasn’t finished. ‘Chess is an art form, not a science. No software designer can interpret the subtleties and nuances of chess. It’s not the moves that make the game, it’s the people. The human factor. Strategies, gambits, aggression, defence — it’s the players that make it, not some super calculator.’
Jim was obviously very passionate about his chess.
Curtis decided not to push it. ‘OK, I take your point.’ Jim rummaged around in a dusty leather bag behind him and pulled out an old scratched chessboard. The pieces were loose in the bag, and they emerged in handfuls. Curtis tried to remember how to set them up. When he’d finished, there were two pieces missing. He was about to mention it, when Jim pulled two bottle tops out from the bag, and placed them in the empty squares.
‘Jim Beam is my queen,’ he said matter-of-factly, as he placed the top onto the board. Curtis couldn’t help feeling there was a metaphor in there somewhere.
‘Your pawn is Jack Daniels.’ Curtis had to smile and shake his head. Jack Daniels, huh.
‘You’re white. Your move,’ said Jim. As Curtis opened with a pawn — a real one — Jim kept the conversation going. Maybe it was a ploy to distract him. Maybe he was lonely. Who knew.
‘You know, I belong to this internet chess club. Mostly I play people over the net. Between that and the website, don’t have time for much else.’ Curtis moved a knight in response to Jim’s move. Let’s try and make this as short and painless as possible. He figured that if this was the way he was going to have to win Jim Maze’s trust to get to the email, then he’d have to humour the guy. So chess it was.
‘Anyways, we been talking about the same thing. Debating would be more accurate.’ Jim came back at him with a knight as well. ‘So the club is organising a challenge to settle it once and for all. You ever hear of Bobby Fischer?’ he asked without looking up from the board.
‘Can’t say I have.’ Curtis winced as Jim casually removed one of his knights with a bishop that came from nowhere.
‘Best player that ever lived. Genius. But he disappeared when he was at the top. Beat anyone who mattered hands down . . . But he never played a computer.’ Curtis went back to some serious pawn-shuffling.
‘So a friend of mine says he reckons he’s been playing this guy over the net for a few months who never says who he is. And he does the strangest openings. Like he’s handicapping himself to make the game more interesting.’ Jim took Curtis’s remaining knight with one of his own. He was going down in flames.
‘And after a while he starts to recognise the style of play. And some of the comments the mystery guy drops makes him think. You understand me?’
Curtis nodded. ‘Yeah, sure.’ He didn’t have a clue what Jim was going on about.
‘Now my friend is no amateur — he’s a Grand Master. And here’s someone who won’t give his name, beating him with one hand tied behind his back.’
The penny dropped. ‘Bobby Fischer,’ said Curtis.
‘You got it,’ said Jim, as he unleashed his Jim Beam on Curtis’s exposed rook. ‘So this guy comes straight out one day and asks him. They’d been playing on and off for months. And you know what?’ Curtis shook his head as he examined the chaos on the board in front of him. ‘He didn’t deny it.’ Well that proved everything.
‘So time goes by, and they get to talking about computers. And this mystery guy says he’s never played a computer before. So you know what my friend does?’ More guessing games. Curtis shook his head.
