Hacking the Sun - The Re-Remake

Chapter 5 Life Is Like An Algorithm 2/2

New Sumer's evening clouds softly adorned the black surface of its tallest superstructure. Goliath headquarters: Holographic terminals, white jumpsuits, the diligent fingers of overtime employees, and synthetic seats. Headphones, headphones, and more headphones linked engineer to client and coworker. Here lay the 7th floor, where David passed through the computational rows in his distinctive green coat and hat, stopping at the request of a woman. He distinguished her blonde bun.

"Director," she beckoned.

David honed in on her workstation. "Update?"

"More crashes and CrownSoft bugs."

"Again? Did you inform them we're investigating the issue and will implement fixes as soon as possible?"

"Yes, sir. There's something new in this report, however."

"What is it?"

"The user marked it as resolved but I noticed that—when the digital signature page was disabled—it happened during a mobile navigation blackout. Entire sections of the city were disconnected from the network."

David scowled. " How are the servers?"

Several keys led a graph onscreen. "Stable," she said. "No anomalies of any kind."

A beep from David's earpiece. He tapped to listen but caught static. 

"David!" 

His name called, he faced a man in a white suit down the row. "They are asking for you up top."

"'Up Top?'"

"The Overseer."

Confusion grabbed David's final glance as he leaned beside his subordinate's terminal. "We should get this sorted out soon. Proceed as usual, while I see what's going on."

"Yes, sir."

An invitation from up high seldom graced the lower offices. David pondered this as the numbers illuminated: 22, 23, 24... And with his brief meditation, the solitude somehow soured into languid thoughts. He rose, yet somehow dove, into a mystic place. Despite years clawing above the ranks, sowing the seeds of trust, the realm above his head was always detached and beyond. The elevator doors slid like portals to another world.

Dim lights. Walls of reflective polish enclosed the nearby secretary's desk. The entire workstation was floating. Everything else was whiteness, a streak-free lounge that preceded a set of double doors. To his right, past a transparent screen, lay a web of rainbows. By their very nature, holograms were supposed to be immaterial, yet the opposite was true in the darkroom, where orange anatomical maps, blue code logic, and red grids slithered through the fingers of upper floor personnel. Materialized from holo-braces, translucent gauntlets powered and illuminated through cuffs. David stared at the artificers in their white collars, characteristically long ears, and eyes of bright focus.

"Salutations!"

David was startled by the formal, high pitch. Behind him snuck a woman in a white one-piece, white hair in a bun and yellow eyes glistening like her wide teeth. She seemed rather short for an Azarean. "I'm expected by the overseer," he said defensively.

The Azarean woman sauntered around the desk, gait perfect. "What is your name?"

"David Morner: Director, Software."

A flick of her wrist and green light flickered above the desk. "Then you may enter. You are expected." The double doors slid open.

David nodded then noticed the room's great window to the city. It surrounded an ovular table with legless chairs on every side. Every corner held a vase on a column, home to a breed of orchid he'd never seen; their teal and white petals oddly swooned to an invisible wind, as if sapient.