[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
wrong, David. Tell me that this floptical was blank.'
Harker looked downwards and coughed before replying.
'No, Ashley, it wasn't.'
'For the love of God!' the other exploded. 'What sort of an
operation are you running here, David? Why the hell did I
install one of the most sophisticated security systems in the
49
industry? What's the point of having that security guard on the
door?' He sat down again and rubbed his eyes with his palms.
'What was on the diskette?' he asked quietly.
`C-OSU5,' Harker muttered, bracing himself for the
reaction. It didn't take long.
`I can't believe I'm hearing this! C-OSU5 is one of the few
parts of the Codex that can run standalone!' Harker was forced
to agree; most of the Codex architecture was dependent upon
being surrounded by a host of support programs. C-OSU5's
design meant that it could run on any computer with Paradigm
installed.
Chapel's anger continued. 'What if somebody does run it,
and gets curious about the results?' And then he sank into the
chair. 'What am I saying: if they run it, of course they'll get
suspicious. How many other programs . . .' He trailed off and
slammed the table, making the Tablette jump into the air. `C-
OSU5 is Campling's module, isn't it?'
Harker nodded, even though he knew that the question was
rhetorical: Chapel knew every module, every subroutine, every
line of code of the Millennium Codex, and he also knew
exactly who was responsible for each one. 'But he's not likely
to have nicked anything. He's sound.'
`I know that. I chose him to work on the Codex, didn't I?'
The implication was clear: if Chapel employed them, they had
to be okay.
Chapel continued. 'Let's just hope that my wonderful
security system is worth all the inconvenience of its
installation.' Turning to the Tablette, he clicked and typed with
his usual prowess. Less than a minute later, a window had
appeared.
`Let's assume that the floptical was stolen from Campling's
desk, shall we?' Chapel continued typing; as Harker watched,
he entered the day's date and two times 9 a.m. and 6 p.m.
and then the location of Campling's desk in the shorthand used
to specify any part of the ACL office complex. And then he
pressed the enter key.
Another window expanded from nothing; this one was a
video replay, showing Campling's desk. Chapel instructed the
security system to fast-forward the mundane to-ings and fro-
50
ings: Campling's arrival was there, as he unpacked his
briefcase and powered up his Tablette; a few informal chats
with colleagues who were leaving; the odd coffee break, all of
this took place at an almost unwatchable speed, but Chapel
seemed to absorb everything.
After a few minutes of frenetic video, Harker's attention
was seriously wandering, but a satisfied 'There!' from Chapel
brought him back to the screen. The freeze-framed image
showed someone holding the diskette in question.
`Our guilty party, David. Do you recognize him? He's not
one of my programmers.'
Although Chapel knew every single programmer in ACL
whether they worked on the Probe product or were members of
his Private Army the 'peripheral people', as Chapel called
them, were a faceless mass. Testers, technical writers, support
staff, to Chapel, they were as individual as cupboards or
vending machines. A resource to be used. But Harker had
made it his business to know everyone, however
inconsequential.
`It's Barry Brown.'
`Brown?' Chapel stroked his chin, and raised a finger as he
remembered. `Ah yes, our resident alcoholic technical writer.'
Still feeling vulnerable after his phone call to Julia Prince,
Harker automatically leapt to Brown's defence. `He was very
good at his job, Ashley.' And he'd always found him an
entertaining companion in the smoking room.
Chapel shrugged dismissively. 'So? I've always found it
very difficult to take someone seriously when they smell of
alcohol at ten o'clock in the morning. But that's wholly
irrelevant. He's stolen part of the Codex, David. And that is a
crime beyond imagining.'
`But we have Campling's work in library storage '
`That isn't the point! Someone out there' he jerked a
finger towards the window 'has a copy of a computer [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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wrong, David. Tell me that this floptical was blank.'
Harker looked downwards and coughed before replying.
'No, Ashley, it wasn't.'
'For the love of God!' the other exploded. 'What sort of an
operation are you running here, David? Why the hell did I
install one of the most sophisticated security systems in the
49
industry? What's the point of having that security guard on the
door?' He sat down again and rubbed his eyes with his palms.
'What was on the diskette?' he asked quietly.
`C-OSU5,' Harker muttered, bracing himself for the
reaction. It didn't take long.
`I can't believe I'm hearing this! C-OSU5 is one of the few
parts of the Codex that can run standalone!' Harker was forced
to agree; most of the Codex architecture was dependent upon
being surrounded by a host of support programs. C-OSU5's
design meant that it could run on any computer with Paradigm
installed.
Chapel's anger continued. 'What if somebody does run it,
and gets curious about the results?' And then he sank into the
chair. 'What am I saying: if they run it, of course they'll get
suspicious. How many other programs . . .' He trailed off and
slammed the table, making the Tablette jump into the air. `C-
OSU5 is Campling's module, isn't it?'
Harker nodded, even though he knew that the question was
rhetorical: Chapel knew every module, every subroutine, every
line of code of the Millennium Codex, and he also knew
exactly who was responsible for each one. 'But he's not likely
to have nicked anything. He's sound.'
`I know that. I chose him to work on the Codex, didn't I?'
The implication was clear: if Chapel employed them, they had
to be okay.
Chapel continued. 'Let's just hope that my wonderful
security system is worth all the inconvenience of its
installation.' Turning to the Tablette, he clicked and typed with
his usual prowess. Less than a minute later, a window had
appeared.
`Let's assume that the floptical was stolen from Campling's
desk, shall we?' Chapel continued typing; as Harker watched,
he entered the day's date and two times 9 a.m. and 6 p.m.
and then the location of Campling's desk in the shorthand used
to specify any part of the ACL office complex. And then he
pressed the enter key.
Another window expanded from nothing; this one was a
video replay, showing Campling's desk. Chapel instructed the
security system to fast-forward the mundane to-ings and fro-
50
ings: Campling's arrival was there, as he unpacked his
briefcase and powered up his Tablette; a few informal chats
with colleagues who were leaving; the odd coffee break, all of
this took place at an almost unwatchable speed, but Chapel
seemed to absorb everything.
After a few minutes of frenetic video, Harker's attention
was seriously wandering, but a satisfied 'There!' from Chapel
brought him back to the screen. The freeze-framed image
showed someone holding the diskette in question.
`Our guilty party, David. Do you recognize him? He's not
one of my programmers.'
Although Chapel knew every single programmer in ACL
whether they worked on the Probe product or were members of
his Private Army the 'peripheral people', as Chapel called
them, were a faceless mass. Testers, technical writers, support
staff, to Chapel, they were as individual as cupboards or
vending machines. A resource to be used. But Harker had
made it his business to know everyone, however
inconsequential.
`It's Barry Brown.'
`Brown?' Chapel stroked his chin, and raised a finger as he
remembered. `Ah yes, our resident alcoholic technical writer.'
Still feeling vulnerable after his phone call to Julia Prince,
Harker automatically leapt to Brown's defence. `He was very
good at his job, Ashley.' And he'd always found him an
entertaining companion in the smoking room.
Chapel shrugged dismissively. 'So? I've always found it
very difficult to take someone seriously when they smell of
alcohol at ten o'clock in the morning. But that's wholly
irrelevant. He's stolen part of the Codex, David. And that is a
crime beyond imagining.'
`But we have Campling's work in library storage '
`That isn't the point! Someone out there' he jerked a
finger towards the window 'has a copy of a computer [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]