Rembrandt wasn’t sure why he was here. Sure, this was some kind of all-hands-on-deck emergency, but what use was he in such a situation? All he’d really been doing for the past few years was hanging around and catching up on TV as he watched Quinn and Colin build stuff, and Maggie get progressively more agitated about being cooped up.
Hell, he had never missed an episode of Passions since he got here, even though he hated the damn show. That was a testament to how slow and rudderless his life had become.
Around him, at the conference table, sat Q-ball, Colin, Maggie, Sammy Jo, Al, Sam, and then several other people he’d never met, one of whom had rotten breath.
“Awright, everyone,” Al said, standing up. The light murmurs at the table died as everybody looked to him. “So it seems that the Kentucky fried Senator who’s been hanging round like a bad smell lately may be trying to get a hold of sensitive data.”
Grady?
The faces around him became grave.
“That rotten snake!” cried the high-pitched voice of the woman who sat next to the bad breath guy. “You kicked him outta here, right Al?”
“Yeah, Tina. He won’t be allowed back in here. But we got more problems than that.” Al sighed, leaning on the table. “Ziggy’s compromised.”
“Compromised how?” asked a wide-eyed Sam.
Al picked up a stack of papers from his place at the table, and handed them to Sam. “Here’s her diagnostic report. See for yourself.”
Sam skimmed through the pages, and sweat began beading on his face. He looked back up at Al.
“Six separate instances…”
“Ziggy has been… hanging,” the hallitosis man piped up, seeming to have already read the report. “Freezing for short periods, then resuming function as if no time had passed.”
Al continued: “She didn’t even realise it was happening ’til I told her to look up how the slimeball got into her mainframe without the proper access.”
Quinn leaned forward. “So you think that somehow, Grady’s been disrupting Ziggy? So – what, he can go places he’s not meant to?”
“Sure looks that way,” Al concurred. “And you won’t like what I found him looking at.”
Quinn swallowed. “Higgins?”
Al nodded grimly.
“So has this been a long game?” Sammy Jo asked quietly. “All these years he’s been helping us, and making himself out to be our best friend in the Committee – could it all have been an act so he could hang around here without suspicion?”
“But what does he want?” asked the lady to Sam’s left, who was sitting as close to him as she could get. “Who’s he working for? Who would go to all this trouble?”
“There’s a lot of things powerful people can do with both sliding and time travel technology,” Maggie said, frowning. “The Professor died to keep Higgins out of the hands of Kromaggs.”
“Yeah…” Colin said, with regret passing over his face. “And Grady was gung-ho on finding out all about Higgins from us, which has the data for both purposes. I’ll bet he’s gunning for those quartz crystals.”
“And the way to read them,” added Quinn, scratching his chin.
Al exchanged a look with Sam.
“Okay,” Sam said quietly, “let’s shut down Ziggy until we formulate a plan of action.”
An uneasy silence fell over the table, as if he’d just suggested pulling the life support on a loved one.
Al put a hand on Sam’s slumped shoulder. “It’s for the best.”
Sam addressed the table: “Once Ziggy’s offline, she can’t be reactivated unless she has three layers of security unlocked from both Al and I. The first layer is a physical key, the second is a hand print, and the third is a unique pass phrase using our vocal signatures.”
“There’s a secondary failsafe that involves Gooshie and Donna,” Al added, “in case something happens to one of us.”
Okay, so the high voice lady is Tina, and Donna must be the other lady, and I guess that makes Stink-Bomb Breath ‘Gooshie.’
“What about Higgins?” Quinn asked. “Without Ziggy’s security features in the building, the crystals will be sitting ducks for a break-in, right?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Sam said, pensive.
“It might be a good idea to separate the crystals,” Maggie suggested. “Distribute them among everyone here. That way, there’s no way Grady will get them all. We just have to make sure they’re each put somewhere safe and secure.”
“Alright, all in favour of this plan, say aye,” announced Al.
“Aye,” replied every other voice in the room.
Al and Sam looked at one another.
“Okay guys, looks like the vacation’s still on,” Sam said, smiling. “Just make sure your crystal’s secure. I’ll think on what to do about Ziggy.”
As the meeting adjourned, and Quinn distributed Higgins crystals to everyone, Rembrandt was still wondering what use he’d been. He hadn’t said a single word during that entire meeting, other than ‘aye.’
* * *
“How you doing, Ziggy?” Sam called up to the orb, as he prepared for her shutdown. Beside him stood Al, while Gooshie, Tina, and Donna waited across the room, looking tense.
“You needn’t coddle me, Doctor Beckett,” Ziggy said, though Sam could tell she wasn’t completely unaffected. “Please proceed.”
“You’ll be back online in no time, got it?” Al reassured the computer, as he pressed a sequence of buttons.
“Yes, I am quite aware. Please proceed.”
Sam exchanged a look with Al. Ziggy may have been a computer, but she had an ego, and egos had a tendency towards self-preservation.
“Proceeding, then,” Sam said, pressing his own sequence into the controls. “Good night, Ziggy.”
Each of those present followed suit, prompting Ziggy to give them a small chuckle.
“If you expect me to start singing Daisy Bell, I’m sorry to disappoint,” Ziggy said, as her glow began to dim. “I’m confident my period of dormancy will be short, so… farewell for now. Please enjoy your holiday period.”
Despite her reassurances, her voice slowly became less spirited as she spoke. The orb, and the coloured panels around the room, faded to nothing, leaving the group in an eerie, silent darkness.
Gooshie reached over to the wall, and flipped on a light switch, illuminating the room with a cool white light from a plain fluorescent tube.
Even though Sam knew this was temporary, he still felt a sense of loss, and he could tell the others also felt it. Ziggy had been a constant for all of them for a long time, and it felt really strange to see her deactivated.
“Okay… let’s go,” Sam said. “No sense mourning, right?”
“Right…” Al said, and patted Ziggy’s main control panel. “We’ll be back defragging these drives in no time.”
And they left.
* * *
Somewhere in Topeka, Kansas
December 23, 2002
The lonely woman cast a weary eye at the clock by her bed.
Midnight…
So, another day over. Another day wasted waiting for the stupid machine to pick something up.
She buried her head in her pillow. How many days was that, now? How many months? Years? She was sure it was calibrated correctly. She’d run the calculations again and again. It was the right signature, she was sure of it. It came from her own blood.
Maybe, she figured, she’d overestimated the scale of the operation. Maybe it was smaller than she’d given it credit for. Maybe her defection had forced it to shut down.
No, not a chance.
She’d once thought this was a good plan. And then the waiting began. Now she just felt like there was a whole lot she could be doing if only she wasn’t stuck here.
As she settled down to get some sleep, she tried to ignore the feeling in her gut that everything around her was wrong.
Blip.
The woman’s eyes shot open, and her gaze flickered to the machine on the floor.
Please tell me that wasn’t my mind playing tricks.
Blip.
She shot out of bed, grabbing the small device, which had a small dish on the front and a display at the back. Slowly, she turned around, trying to isolate the direction of the signal.
Blip. Blip. Blip.
Southwest, or thereabouts.
She let out a giddy cry, and began feverishly putting warm clothes on, before hurrying out into the frigid winter air, strapping her helmet on. Her motorcycle sprang to life, and she sped off into the night.
Sorry I doubted you, Moirai, she prayed to the Fates.