Song of the Red-Legged Birds: Chapter 28: Luke, I’m not your father
Luke deploys code to The Bubble
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With gratitude, Bill
Last week, in chapter 27, Takeda and Holly met up with Scott and Sheila
Chapter 28: Luke, I’m not your father
“Des? Can I come in?” Luke asked from the doorway to Desmond’s office.
Desmond’s attention was fixed on the screen in front of him. His mind was racing through scenarios to present to Christo, and he didn’t hear Luke.
Luke coughed.
Desmond looked up. “Hey. Have something for me or need something from me?”
“I, I have some initial f-findings that I ran past Careen and Tim like you asked,” Luke said haltingly with eyes cast to the floor.
“So, you’re confident in what you’re about to share?”
Desmond liked Luke but intended to toughen him up by making him stand up for himself. Luke was young but much more intelligent than he was. If he could nurture that, Luke would be invaluable to the team.
“Um, yeah. Ya-yes, I am.” Luke stammered.
Desmond sighed for effect. He didn’t enjoy being an ass but was about to be one. It’s middle-management time, he thought.
“Luke, I want you to walk away. Then, come back and try this again. And, if you’re confident in what you’ll present, I’d like you to act that way.”
“Er, uh. Okay…?” Luke slunk away, confused.
For a moment, Desmond wasn’t sure Luke was coming back. He looked at the empty doorway, heard the boy shuffling, and glanced down at the computer screen.
Luke knocked like he was afraid to scratch the door. “Hi Desmond, do you have, uh, a moment? I have some data that I’d like to run past you.”
“Much better. Next time I want you to think about body language. Stand up straight and tall, don’t shuffle your feet. Square your shoulders and make friendly but confident eye contact.”
“Okay, Des. Thank you. Should I go and try again?”
“No. Let’s hear it now. Please.”
“Okay. Well, as you know, The Bubble is currently at 99%, and standard analysis of any breach of the gap turned up negative. Additionally, a routine scan of intentional attempted penetration of The Bubble was also negative. A regular amount of space debris came through, and all of it appears to be what we’d consider normal.” Luke stopped and took a breath.
“Is there an and or but coming?” Desmond said in mock annoyance.
“Yes, I uh, well. I found a new way to scan and caught something.”
“Wait. What?”
“I came up with a new…”
“No. I heard you. You’re telling me in the two hours since our meeting, you developed a new way to scan the entire Bubble–the software built to do that took close to a year to develop, and then another year of patches until it worked properly.”
“Sorry, was I not supposed to do that? I noticed that the construct made no sense, and I…”
“Luke, sit down. Water?” He pointed to the cooler on the floor.
“No thanks.”
“You said you ran this past Careen and Tim?”
“Yes.”
“What did you find?”
Luke looked down and away.
“It’s okay; you’re not in trouble. Tell me what you found.”
“Um, all right. I didn’t see anything penetrate, but,” Luke paused, “I did see a low-level flare.”
Desmond narrowed his eyes, “Low-level? What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, that’s what I developed. The core code scanner does a great job at the basic stuff, but it kind of…” He searched Desmond’s face.
“You’re not going to hurt my feelings, son. Out with it.”
“Well, the normal code executes too slow, so it’s possible to miss something. And it has to coordinate with all the satellites, which adds additional time. What I did runs at close to the speed of light.”
Desmond’s lips parted, and he felt a chill like ice-cold ants running down his spine.
“That… that’s not possible…?” His statement turned into a question.
Luke looked down and shuffled his feet.
“You couldn’t have tested this without deploying it to every satellite. You released a code update?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, I did. I had to see if it worked.” He kept his gaze on the floor.
Desmond took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Then he laughed. “Well fuck. I hope you’re about to dazzle me because deploying code to other nations’ satellites without proper notification is, what’re the words I’m looking for?”
“Bad?”
“An act of war. I’m shocked that I haven’t heard it from anywhere else yet. Because I’m surely about to get my ass handed to me!”
Luke stood up straight and looked Desmond in the eyes. “With all due respect, sir, I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I found something. The Bubble flared yesterday, and it flared today. It’s been flaring every day for at least the last year.”
“What?” Desmond yelled, standing. “Where? What part of the bubble?”
“The whole thing, Des, the whole grid covering the Earth receives a low-level flare daily. Let me show you.”
Luke raised the tablet he was holding and swiped the screen. Desmond clicked the prompt to accept the file on his computer. The model of the grid orbiting the Earth displayed vibrant green and inactive red scores, as usual. But now, it also showed a glowing purple layer. The module was paused, indicating that the last flare was a few minutes ago. Desmond scrolled the bar left, back in time, and watched the purple layer disappear and reappear daily. He scrolled faster and faster until it was a purple blur.
Desmond struggled to regain his composure, finally saying, “Thank you, Luke. Would you excuse me?”
“Sure, Des,” Luke said and left, closing the door behind him.
Desmond turned to the digital wall, displaying a real-time view of the evening’s star-filled sky. He stared for a while, waiting for an answer to appear. The buzz of his phone brought him back. He looked down at a message from Arthur that said, ‘Bro, did you know someone did a code deploy?’
“How’d it go?” Careen asked as she looked up from her station when Luke returned.
“He was, uh, kind of mad. But then he got quiet.”
“Mad about the code drop, I assume?”
“I think so. Des said it was an act of war.”
Tim chuckled and shared a look with Careen, who rolled her eyes.
“That man loves drama, I swear. He’ll make some calls and set it straight. Luke, you did good. You did the right thing. Did you tell him that we told you to do it?” Tim asked.
“No, not really. I said you both reviewed my work, but not that you said I should proceed with the deployment.” Luke said, searching for evidence that he did what he was supposed to.
“Wow! Look at you, tough guy! Taking it on the chin for us. You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart. We’ll tell him it was a team decision when he comes spitting fire.” Careen shot Luke a broad smile. Luke’s neck started to turn red. He tried unsuccessfully to rub it away.
“Guys, uh…,” Luke stammered.
“What, buddy?” Tim said.
“Like, so what’s this all mean?”
“Do you mean, what does it mean that the grid has been flaring daily for more than a year?” Careen asked. “Fuckall if we know Lukey boy,” she said, rocking back in her chair.
Tim broke in, “Allow me to offer a more in-depth answer?”
Careen stuck her tongue out at him.
“What you’re feeling is common in any project you’ll ever work on. You’re tasked with doing the work, important and technical work, but disconnected from its meaning and value. Oh sure, management will give you an explanation if you ask them, but those are carefully crafted words meant for you and meant to inspire and make you feel valued so that you’ll continue to be a productive employee. They’re not the words used behind closed doors at the highest level. We’re all part of the machine Luke, put together to do a job. That job, on paper, is to protect the Earth. It’s an important job, but it’s still just a job. Now, if you want to get philosophical and wonder about the meaning of an entity flaring the grid and why that’s happening, I will give you some practical advice. Keep that shit separate from your work because it will cloud your judgment. If they,” Tim motioned to the offices above, “think that you’re getting soft and mushy, well, let’s just say they’d consider that a threat as much as those flares.” He pointed to his screen. “Do you understand?”
“Uh, maybe,” Luke said, looking from Tim to Careen and back to Tim.
“Sheesh, Tim, you been practicing that one? Did you take theatre in school? I’m smelling frustrated actor.” Careen pointed finger guns at Tim and wrinkled her nose.
“I did a little Shakespeare in the park,” Tim said with an enigmatic smile.
“What is happening?” Luke said, bewildered.
“Honey, what wordy McWordface is trying to say is, when you’re here, keep your head down and do your job. Save the rest for beer-thirty.”
“Okay, got it. Thanks, Careen,” Luke said with relief.
“Again? Nothing for me?” Tim teased.
“Lay off,” Careen warned.
Tim stood and gave a theatrical bow.
It was quiet for thirty seconds, save for the sound of fingers hitting keys like raindrops on a window pane.
“Careen?” Luke said.
“Yes, Luke?”
“What does beer-thirty mean?”
She smiled.
Arthur took the first panicked call alerting him that a code deployment had occurred. He told the caller to sit tight and that he’d get right back to them. Then he put his phone on vibrate, sent Desmond a text message, and returned to Christo, who had finally started to stir on the couch after passing out.
“What the hell?” Christo mumbled as he woke.
“You okay, bro?” Arthur said, thrusting a mug of water at him.
Christo sat up with some effort and looked to the microscope and the shattered glass.
“I think so. What happened? I was looking at the sample; then I remember dreaming, and I’m here.” He took the mug from Arthur and drank.
“Dude, you were hypnotized, and you didn’t look well. Then you passed out, and I carried you here. I went back to check the sample, and…” Arthur searched for the words.
“And what?”
“Da fuck do I say dis? The black stuff had turned into a pointy thing and broke the glass. Then it disappeared as the other dust did. Man, it was like it was sentient.”
“Hell,” Christo said.
“You ever hear of anything like this?”
Christo looked at him, a little amused, and said with dripping sarcasm, “No, Art. I haven’t heard of birds that disintegrate into sentient black dust before.”
“Shit, bro, I don’t know all the meetings you attend with the higher-highers.”
“I’m sorry. I’m still a little shaken. Thanks for looking out for me.” Christo held out his fist, and Arthur bumped it.
“All good, bro.”
“Art?” Christo said, patting his pockets. “Where’s my phone?”
“It’s over there.” He pointed towards the microscope. “You dropped it when you passed out. I think it’s broken, though. The screens dark and cracked. Maybe whatever hurt you broke it too.”
“So that buzzing I hear is yours?”
Arthur dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The display showed sixteen missed calls and thirty-four new text messages.
“Yup.” He paused and looked at Christo, who raised his eyebrows. “Some shit went down, man. And I haven’t dug into it yet because…” He motioned to Christo and then to the microscope.
“What shit?”
“Seems someone upstairs did a mass code deployment. On their own.”
Christo mouthed, ’What the fucking fuck?’
Next week in Chapter 29, “I walked on ice,” Our heroes meet “The Guy”