Death Match - Diane Duane [54]
“Fishing for compliments, Mark?”
He didn’t deign to answer that. “As regards the ISF servers, though,” Mark said, “I can save you some time and worry. Net Force has already been through those with a fine-tooth comb.”
“Meaning you, I take it.”
“I went along for the ride,” Mark said. “Nothing showed up.”
“Did the software people who normally maintain the code know that you were coming?”
“No. Well, yes,” Mark said after a moment. “Upper management knew, since we were doing a physical-equipment assessment as well. In fact, the ISF asked us to come in as soon as Net Force contacted them.”
“Then we can assume that ‘lower’ management knew about the inspection, too,” Catie said. “Wouldn’t you say?”
“Seems likely enough. Assuming ‘worst case,’ anyway.”
“I think you may as well assume it. I suspect your dad would have, anyway.” Catie thought for a moment. “Okay…so they’ll have had time to hide things from you, if anybody on the ‘inside’ wanted to…. Even though you’ve already been in there, I’d like a quick look around in that server. Can you finesse it?”
Mark looked at her for a few moments, a very speculative expression. “Catie, I’m not sure this is strictly the kind of help James Winters had in mind when he brought you on board.”
Catie swallowed. “I can’t help that,” she said. “There are things I need to look at before I can figure out what questions to ask George Brickner. It’s no use wasting his time and mine running down one blind alley after another. And anyway, if I don’t understand the inside of the server technology well enough to know what to listen for, I’m going to be wasting my own time, too…not to mention that I won’t be able to help your friends at Net Force in what they’re trying to achieve.”
Mark thought about that for a moment. Then his face cleared. “All right,” he said. “I know you can be trusted. And there’s no time like the present. Come on!”
He jumped up and led Catie off to one side, away from the fallen pillars. “Yo, cousin,” Mark said to his workspace management program.
“Working.”
“Access doorway. Crapshoot.”
“Opening access now, and logging.” A blue outline appeared in the empty “vacuum” before them, and filled itself with darkness.
“Logging to my storage only,” Mark said hastily.
“Logging limited,” his workspace management program said, and the blackness in the doorway shimmered. A different quality of darkness, with a vague bloom of light in the background, was all that Catie could see through it at the moment.
“That’s so my dad won’t find out about this immediately,” Mark said. “But, Catie, he’s going to have to know sooner or later. So don’t do anything that’s going to make Net Force look stupid later on.”
“As if I would,” Catie said.
“I know. But I have to say it anyway.” The look he gave her was surprisingly fierce, and it amused Catie a little to find that he was so territorial…and pleased her as well. She knew some of the older Net Force Explorers who were friends with him had an idea that Mark might be slightly uncontrollable, even unprincipled, but plainly there were things that mattered to him…and for Catie, this was a source of some relief.
They stepped through together. Inside the doorway was a wide dark plane, all ruled with green parallel lines crossing one another and stretching to infinity in all directions: a naked Cartesian grid, unfeatured, like a space that hadn’t even been configured yet, and with only two dimensions detailed.
“This is kind of minimalist, isn’t it?” Catie said, looking around.
Mark nodded. “The ISF’s senior programmers seem to like it that way. No obvious cues.”
“I’ll say,” Catie said.
“However,” Mark said, “I am not one of their senior programmers. I prefer my programming a little more objectified. And between you and me, so do their more junior programmers…as you’ll see.”
He reached