doubleZero | Page 8

clock, right? Every
time an outside computer talks to our system, it's asked for its version
of the time. If it's different from ours, the system checks the other
computer's time against a radio signal from an atomic clock in
Colorado. Perfectly accurate. If the guest computer's date is off, our
computer corrects it."
"Then we never have bad data infecting our system. Right, that's what
Lloyd programmed for us, based on your weird little logic drawings,"
Julie added.
"But what if there was, say, this one account that lived in a bubble
where there was no time. And you could feed it the time manually...
Only I never fed it in, so inside that bubble it's the year zero."
"But with two thousand years' interest the bank's general ledger would
go off the scale! Surely they'd see that."
"Naw, they wouldn't. 'Cause from inside it always looks like a hundred
and fifty bucks. Only an outside computer making a transaction would
see it as, well, this," said Fix, taking the slip from her hand.
"Okay, so as long as you don't touch this, is it safe?"
"Actually, it's safe as long as I'm the only one touching it. The bubble

kinda has this bar of soap property, like, if anyone tries to touch it, it'll
slip away from them. Well, it'll slip away, but it'll also change itself to
stay hidden. Maybe 'bubble' is a bit too cute an analogy, 'cause it's
made of a smeg."
"Please," Julie moaned, "tell me that's an acronym."
"Yeah, it is. Simulated Multimorphic Encryption Generator. Back in
'94 it caused a bit of trouble. That was the 2.0 form. This is version 3.
It's a virus that can change itself to avoid detection. But this bubble is
self-contained. It won't spread."
"For sure?" Julie asked, screwing Fix down with that uncomfortable
look again.
"Well, not unless someone tries to burst it. But it won't show up to the
regular virus-checker programs. Lloyd's the only person there who
could catch it. He wrote all the date-harmonizing stuff. I just stitched
the bubble around it."
"So," Julie thought aloud, "first we have to tell Lloyd."
"Are you sure that's such a good idea?"
"Fix! He's the only one who can undo this."
"If I could get to my computer I might be able to get rid of it. Oh god--"
Fix halted, his jaw dropping, "My computer is still there, right? They
haven't shifted our offices around yet, have they?"
"No, they're still too busy dealing with the Euro thing."
"Good."
"Why good?" Julie leaned back on her arms, uncrossing her legs to
stretch them on either side of Fix. She was surprised to find herself
getting used to all these potential calamities.
"'Cause the program that made the bubble is still sitting on that

computer. And," he paused, "if someone tried to break into it, well, it
might just burst the bubble. Ever look at a bubble up close? Just before
it bursts you can see all the rainbow-coloured drops barely holding
together," Fix got lost for a second in the image. Julie, losing her calm,
tapped him with her foot. "Well, each of those little drops goes flying
off into the system."
"Get your bike," Julie commanded, getting up, grabbing her heavy
black leather jacket from a chair.
"Where are we going?"
"Get your fucking bike!"
Fix ran across the loft and got his bike from the spot where he'd leaned
it against the wall. Julie hoisted hers over her shoulder and headed out
for the elevator. He hurried out of the apartment after her. "And lock
the door behind you," he heard her say from down the hall. He went
back and, this time, locked the door.
Julie slipped her passcard into the slot beside the door to their
department. It would look suspicious in the logs, her entering at this
time of the evening. And the cameras would pick her up with Fix. She
wasn't comfortable with that. But she'd figure out something to say
later, once this was all cleared up.
Fix pulled a chair up to his old computer. Switching it on, he said,
"Good. No one's even touched it. It's a piece of shit machine, but right
now it's a rather loaded piece of shit machine." The screen prompted
him to log in.
"How do you like this?" Fix asked Julie, holding up a picture of his
face that he'd pulled from a drawer.
"Pretty funny."
"Har har," he replied dryly, "It's the key to the encryption algorithm
that the bubble uses. I used a steganosaurus program to hide the key in

my picture."
"Were you ever actually working on this project while you were here?"
"Baby, this was the project to me. If I hadn't worked all this out we