Sam settled down into the chair and looked at the three large monitors in front of him.
An ergonomic keyboard, one of those oddly angled ones that were supposed to be better for your wrists, and a wireless wheel mouse were the only things on the desk in front of him, although a standard microphone headset hung on the side of the central monitor.
He had never got the hang of that style of keyboard and wondered if he could get it changed. It crossed his mind that a neuro-headset could be useful, but it was a little early for that. It was only his first day.
He looked at Dodge, seated to his right. Not so much seated as embedded into the soft leather of the high-backed chair. He looked like a part of the furniture. Like he belonged.
Sam shuffled his backside around a bit, getting used to the chair, which was larger and more comfortable than he was used to. No doubt he was going to end up spending long periods of time in it.
To his left, and to Dodge’s right, fabric-covered partitions separated them from the teams on either side. Dodge’s was adorned with stubs from rock concert tickets, including a few backstage passes, while Sam’s was empty, although several pinholes and indentations in the fabric showed that some items had recently been removed. He wondered who had owned this seat before him.
“Fire ’er up, and we’ll go for a dive,” Dodge said, glancing over at him. “I’ll show you around.”
Dodge put on his headset and Sam followed suit, adjusting the microphone to the level of his mouth. A feeling of trepidation – would he be up to this? – was balanced by tremendous excitement at the thought of a whole new world that was about to be revealed to him.
Dodge’s voice sounded strong and clear in his ear. “Everything you say is recorded and monitored by both our guys, and Swamp Witch in the middle there.” He nodded at the raised octagonal office with the reflective windows in the centre of the room.
“Swamp Witch?”
Dodge laughed. “She’s got a proper handle, but nobody ever uses it. Just hope that you don’t get to meet her. Official-like, that is.”
“Swamp Witch?” Sam asked again.
“Oversight officer. Permanent representative of the Congressional Oversight Committee. The sort of power we have around here, someone’s got to make sure we don’t abuse it. Know what I mean?”
Sam glanced up at the office, wondering if he was being watched right now.
“Right, follow me,” Dodge said. “We’ll head out on a short patrol, just to give you the feel of things. I’m on your left screen. Everything I see, you’ll see there. Centre screen is you, and your right screen is your overview. Your ‘navigation map’, some like to call it. Also has most of your scanners, scopes and weapons systems. We’re going to head over to the Pentagon, run a sweep through their networks. It’s serious stuff over there so no mucking about, right?”
“We’re going to hack into the Pentagon?” Sam raised his eyebrows.
“Hack?” Dodge laughed. “You’re on the other team now, mate. We’ve got a backstage pass. Access all areas.”
Sam looked at his row of monitors, then back at Dodge. “Before we start, Dodge,” he hesitated, “I don’t want to sound stupid, but I don’t even know what my job is yet. What do I do here?”
Dodge raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, Sam, mate. I thought Jaggard had already run through that with you. You’re my new wingman.”
“Wingman,” Sam said, nodding as if he understood.
“I’m on point. You back me up. I go after the bad guys and you stop them going after me. Got it?”
Sam nodded again.
“After three months, if it works out, then we’ll pair up officially until you move on to take point and get your own wingman.” Dodge grinned and continued, “Or until one of us burns out. Whichever comes first.”
That sounded a little ominous, but Sam didn’t pursue it.
“So my only job is to protect you,” he said for confirmation.
“I’m the quarterback, you’re the linebacker. It’s your job to keep the bogeys off my arse while I make the play. Okay?”
“Okay …” Sam said cautiously, “I’ll try my best. What about training?”
“This is the training,” Dodge said. “On the job. Let’s head over to the Pentagon. I’ll explain more as we go.”
Sam kept an eye on his left screen, watching what Dodge did, and copying him as they slid, undetectably, through the firewalls and outer defences of the country’s central military command post.
“It’s like the Dark Ages out there,” Dodge was saying in his ear. “And we’re the knights in shining amour. Everybody builds these highly secure networks, like big castles, for protection, right. But a castle is just a big lump of stone unless there’s someone to defend it. We’re the soldiers patrolling the battlements.”
A vivid picture came into Sam’s mind of himself standing atop the high stone parapets of a castle, smoke billowing behind him, heroically resisting the invaders.
“Firewalls, antivirus programs, network spiders, all that is what we call ‘passive defence’, like the walls of the castle. What we do is called ‘active defence’. You remember that old Will Smith movie, Men in Black?”
“Sure.”
“Well that’s us. We’re the first, last, and best line of defence against the worst scum of the universe.”
Dodge’s “short patrol” took the rest of the afternoon, touring around the servers in the massive Pentagon complex. They spent the time examining and testing security systems, prodding and poking everything that could be prodded or poked, to make sure the system was watertight. They were constantly looking out for signs of anything that wasn’t as it should be. Watching out for invaders. For people like Sam.
“What’s going on at the moment?” Sam asked at one point. “Mr Jaggard said something about raising the alert level.”
Dodge nodded.
“There’s something big in the wind. A rotten smell in the air. We had some intel through from the Easter Bunny that some kind of attack is in the offing. All pretty sketchy at the moment but we got scouts out in all directions looking for signs.”
“Hang on,” Sam said, “you get your intel from the Easter Bunny? Why? Was Santa Claus busy?”
Dodge laughed. “The Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, call ’em what you like. They don’t exist.”
“I’m not getting you,” Sam said. “Who doesn’t exist?”
“In football,” Dodge said, “and I don’t mean soccer, each side has two teams, right?”
Sam nodded. “Offence and defence.” He didn’t play or even watch the game himself, but he knew the rules from school.
“Right,” Dodge said. “Well, we’re the defence.”
Sam took his eyes off the screen and looked over at Dodge. “There’s an offence?”
“What do you reckon? Do you think the US of A ain’t ready to knock over the computer and communications systems of any country it might happen to get into a punching match with? Do you think that bombs and guns are the only kind of warfare there is?”
Sam considered that. “So what you’re saying is that there’s another unit, a bit like us, but their job is to attack, hack into networks and destroy systems.”
“Nope,” Dodge said. “They don’t exist.”