part0023

Kyle toggled between the virtual screens he had set up to monitor the system installation of the two new workstations. He’d also setup virtual screens to monitor his access to the main R.E.S. system where he had test programming going forward, and he had a virtual session monitoring the company email distribution system.

Raymond had asked him to figure out a way to process the email accounts through the new encryption technology that would be inherent in the new operating system. The way corporate email systems were being hacked these days, Raymond felt they needed as much security for internal communications as they could lay their microchips on. Until Kyle had an email server on a computer utilizing the new encryption-based operating system, there wasn’t much he could do except familiarize himself with the system structure of the current email server.

In general, these pedestrian-type applications bored him. Incorporating the genius of the encryption software with the email service provided the only motivation he held for the project.

His toggling from screen to screen and the brief attention he directed to the new information on display annoyed detectives Sweetland and Richie, who sat across the desk from him.

“Mister Badgerclaw?” Richie said to get Kyle’s attention.

“Oh, sorry. No, I don’t know where he went.”

“We’ve established that. Why don’t you know where he went? ”

“He and the other sales guys leave town a lot. Sometimes even when they tell me where they’re going, I don’t know where they are.”

“Do you think he’ll contact you?”

“Yes. I’m sure he plans to work remotely. At some point, he’ll log in to one of our systems. I’m supposed to put pertinent files in a shared project directory so he can see them whenever he wants.”

“Can you tell if he’s logged in now?”

“I’ve been checking the whole time you’ve been here, and he’s not.”

“Can you tell if he logged in earlier?”

“His last remote login was yesterday afternoon at two forty-eight. I presume before he left his home.”

As Kyle responded to the detectives, the tab on his email screen began to blink. He toggled to the email system and saw that he had a chat request from user OB1, whom he assumed to be Owen Brady. He ignored it and it stopped blinking. Seconds later the blinking started again. Best to let Owen know he would have to wait. He accepted the chat and began typing the conversation while the two detectives sat frustrated at another of his toggled interruptions.

BADG-> Sorry, tied up for a while. Contact later.

OB1-> Kyle its me N. OK 2 chat?

BADG-> Not now. People here want to hear from

“Mister Badgerclaw?” Richie’s voice had a little less patience.

“Sorry. I’ve got stuff running that needs my attention.”

“If you could just hear us out for a minute, we’ll let you go.”

Kyle looked down at his screen.

OB1-> You still there?

BADG-> Detectives. Give me 10. Call back.

He disconnected the chat before Henberlin could respond, then killed the email virtual session.

“Okay, let me check one more thing, then we can finish.” Kyle toggled .

“When Neil Henberlin does dial-in, will you be able to tell where he’s located?” This time it was Sweetland speaking.

“He won’t dial-in , but I know what you mean. He’ll be connecting via an R.E.S. Virtual Private Network or VPN. This is a security mechanism that can only be accessed by people who have security clearance for our VPN. The VPN then changes the IP address of the requesting computer masking the access to an IP address assigned to our VPN. It’s the same sort of setup that allows people abroad to watch American television on streaming sites when they’re in geographical territories where the local IP address blocks the foreign content. The streaming site that’s supposed to reject transmission believes the requesting system is in the proper geographic territory. When Neil connects, his IP address will be valid within our VPN and one that we can tell is remote. But we can’t tell its originating IP address, therefore its location.”

“I don’t know what all that means but you’re saying no?”

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to have one of the computer specialists from the force call you to get clear on that.”

“I’ll call you later today to see if Henberlin has called in. If you talk to him, tell him it’s important that he call us.”

Delaney still hadn’t recovered from the appearance of Roy Warren baring gifts. He had been dialing Henberlin’s personal cell phone as well as the private one CSIS supplied him. He’d been on the verge of putting in a trace with the CIA, but decided not to have them think he couldn’t control his assets. Then Warren showed up in his lobby.

“I wanted to thank you for allowing me to have a little processing time on your new workstation, and to talk to you about the arrangements,” Warren said .

Delaney looked at him a little dumbfounded and shook his head. “I’m sorry, you’re going to have to remind me.”

“Did Neil talk to you?”

“I’ve been trying to reach him all morning. Did you talk to him?”

“No, not since Saturday night at the wagon races. But he said he would talk to you about me testing some reservoir software on your system. I’m here to find out when that can occur and to give you a small gift of appreciation.” Warren held out a small bag stuffed with bubble wrap.

“Well this isn’t at all necessary. Why don’t you come back to my office?”

As they sat down Delaney asked again, “You haven’t talked to Henberlin today? Do you know where I can reach him?”

“Sorry. I expect you’ve tried his office?”

“I asked him if he’d ever heard of you and he said he hadn’t. Now you’re saying he intended to contact me on your behalf?”

“Yes, Neil’s analyst Kyle Badgerclaw and I go way back. I’d contacted Kyle recently to kind of stay in touch, and he told me about his current project involving the new R.E.S. workstation. He told me about your system and the possibility it would have some idle time. Lights went on for me, and that’s when I flew up here and approached you. You didn’t seem too keen on the idea, so I asked Kyle to introduce me to Neil and then I asked Neil to talk to you about letting me access your system. Sorry to spring that on you. I thought he would have talked to you by now.”

Delaney sat quiet for a moment, then picked up his phone and dialed.

“Kyle Badgerclaw please.”

He kept his eye on Warren while waiting for Kyle.

“Kyle, Delaney here.” Silence from Delaney while he listened. “Nothing? Make sure to have him call me. I’ve got something else for you. There’s a Roy Warren sitting in my office. He says you go way back. That true? ”

Another silent waiting session.

“Okay.” Delaney finally said and hung up. “Okay Mr. Warren, Kyle says it will be a day or two before you can access the system from this office. Stay in touch with him, then let me know when you’re coming. How do you know Kyle?”

“Well, we met under similar circumstances to what we’re going through now. Back in college, we crossed paths in the mathematics department here at the University. I needed access to a vector-processing computer and the only ones available came from commercial data-servicing companies. They cost money and I couldn’t afford the rates. But native students received a grant that they could use for outside services. I asked Kyle if he planned on using his and then worked out a deal for him to set up an account with the computer service company. His creativity and playfulness while setting up the account went a long way toward us remaining friends.”

Back then, Warren had explained the grants to Kyle and convinced him to go along with the plan. One day, Kyle found himself entering the offices of Continental DP Timeshare, the owners of a Beta-Vec supercomputer. He stated to the receptionist that he wanted an account to do some processing on the Beta-Vec. The receptionist looked across her desk at him. A clean-cut native with long black hair, not combed but not messed up, either. A checked brown shirt, worn jeans with a large round turquoise buckle, scuffed work boots, and a large padded computer carry-case over his shoulder. Her first thought was to get rid of him.

“I’m sorry but we don’t set up accounts for individuals, only companies.” She smiled.

“Oh. Well, I’m native. I have a grant.”

“Sorry, I don’t know anything about a grant, so…”

“It’s okay. Your manager will know about the grants. Just tell him I’m a native. ”

“It’s a she. Our manager is a she. And I’m afraid I’ll have to take a message and have her get in touch with you.”

Kyle and the receptionist turned to face a blond woman, well dressed and confident. She made eye contact with Kyle, ignoring the receptionist.

“Are you speaking of the Native Affirmative Science Endowment grants?”

Kyle didn’t know the actual name of the grants but he went with it.

“Those are the ones,” he said, giving her one nod.

Even though reservoir simulation applications were the perfect target for Continental’s Beta-Vec business, new accounts had proven difficult to acquire. The manager had no intention of letting someone who walks in the door asking for access to the Super-Computer to walk away without being heard.

“Okay, please come with me Mr…?”

“Badgerclaw, but you can call me Kyle.”

“Kyle, I’m Shelly Brant. It’s nice to meet you. I want to introduce you to our Beta-Vec specialist.”

They walked down a hall. At an open door, Shelly asked him to grab a seat while she fetched the specialist. The specialist was currently performing busy work, straightening up the documentation room. He welcomed the interruption when Shelly summoned him. A short time later, they’d returned to the meeting room and Shelly introduced Kim Parnel to Kyle. That done, she said she’d leave them to their discussion and turned to leave.

“Wait,” said Kyle, “don’t I get to talk to you?”

“I’m sorry Kyle, but Kim here knows a lot more about the Beta-Vec than I do. I’m sure you’ll find it a better use of your time to talk to someone who can answer your questions.” Shelly’s disarming smile could gain agreement from anyone after mere seconds of exposure. Kyle developed the symptoms of agreement and nodded, happy at having the smile aimed his way, though he’d rather have her stay .

Kim settled into one of the soft brown ultra-suede chairs that surrounded the long wooden conference table. The walls of the room were spotted with watercolor prints depicting Western scenes, all produced by Western artists.

“What is it that you wish to use the Beta-Vec for Mr. Badgerclaw?”

Kyle preferred to be called Kyle, though he enjoyed hearing a white man call him mister. He felt a small amount of gratification for changing the perception of Native Canadians in the eyes of the white establishment.

“Analysis,” he replied.

“Would that be financial or scientific?”

“Good. What type of scientific analysis is it that you do Mr. Badgerclaw?” Kim’s voice took on a testy element due to Kyle’s short answers.

“Ah… is it reservoir- or seismic-oriented?” Kim perked up a bit.

Kyle knew that petroleum analysis meant bigger budgets and bigger commissions. His next answer would have Kim’s internal compensation calculator tap dancing.

“I do reservoir simulation.” Bingo. That brought out Kim’s smile.

“I see. Do you work for one of the oil companies?”

Kyle thought that Shelly must not have told him about the Native grant and how he could afford to ask for time on a supercomputer.

“No,” he said, then waited while the smile faded from Kim’s face before continuing. “I work for many oil companies, in many countries." He used a sly tone and turned his head, keeping his eyes on Kim.

Kim hesitated a moment.

“Tell me about these companies you work for.”

“Some of them are governments, but I won’t say which ones.” Now he entered full leg-tugging mode.

“But it’s all petroleum-related analysis that you perform, right?”

“Sure, let’s say that.”

Kim looked down at the table and nodded several times .

“How is it that you get these work assignments from companies and governments?”

“They call me and arrange a time for a data transfer. It’s dropped onto a shared server and I copy the data to a flash drive. I move it to the processor I’m going to use, do the simulations, and send them the results.”

“And then they pay you?”

“If they like the results I send them, they pay. I give them a money-back guarantee on my work. Like a discount furniture store.”

“What? A furniture store?”

“That’s the way to keep customers coming back. That and huge limited-time discounts or buy-one-get-one free sales, or nothing down and no interest until next year.” Kyle held a straight face and entered the ensuing staring contest intent on remaining locked in for as long as it takes.

Kim took up the challenge for about half a minute then twisted his head and scrunched his face on one side before saying, “You’re shitting me.”

Kyle laughed. “Yes, I take it that Shelly didn’t tell you about the Native grant accounts?”

Warren leaned back in his chair in Delaney’s office and said, “He’s always had a subdued sense of humor. Not up front all the time, but it’s there and you never know when it’s coming.”

“He’s always so serious when I talk with him, but I detect the spirit of a jokester from time to time. He clowns around a bit with Neil,” Delaney said.

“Anyway, Kyle introduced me to Neil. I assume he gave Neil the background between us and then he asked Neil to intervene with you so I could get a little work done. I wanted to get started right away but this Stampede Week thing keeps getting in the way. Have you ever stayed at the Indian Village? ”

“Where, down at the Stampede grounds?”

“Yeah, you get to sleep in a real teepee. Kyle set me up with a family to stay one night, said it was quite an honor. They sleep on a thin blanket laid out on the ground—my back hurt the entire night. The kids and dogs get up really early and were staring at me like I fell asleep in the wrong place.”

“Did Kyle stay with you?”

“Yeah, kind of. He said he was in another tent.”

“Right, I’m sure it was his own ‘tent,’ the three-thousand square-foot bungalow teepee that he owns in Shaugnessy. Did you at least get breakfast?” Delaney chuckled.