Face, The Read Online Free PDF

wait—annoyed at being ignored, I’ll admit—until Mr. Traut looks at me. Then I continue. “What I did was conceal mirroring code in the existing antivirus program. If— when— a hacker breaks through the firewall, the mirror will mash up with any malicious code that’s introduced and encrypt the results. If the hacker tries to take a file, any file, the concealed code will erupt like Mt. Vesuvius once it’s installed on the invading system. In other words, the hacker gets hacked…and his system gets tied up in knots.”
    The hint of a smile strains at Mr. Traut’s mouth as he takes out his pipe and lights it. “You’ve tested this?”
    “On several systems. I ran the first trial against a network at the Technical University of Budapest. I hacked into the TU system on a less-than-secure network and left my calling card on a proxy server I’d set up. When they came calling, our program crashed their servers in less than ten minutes.”
    “They’re still trying to figure out what hit ’em,” Judson says, grinning in Mr. Traut’s direction. “I monitored some chatter on the hacker boards—they were all buzzing.”
    “But they can’t steal your code?”
    “No, sir,” I answer. “That’s the beauty of it—after the mashup occurs, you’d need a supercomputer and the patience of Mother Teresa to sort it all out.”
    Mr. Traut finally looks at me. Then he removes his pipe and smiles at Dr. Mewton. “God may not have given that girl a face, but he certainly gave her a brain. Congratulations, Glenda, on a brilliant acquisition.”
    The pleasure I felt a moment ago evaporates as his words resonate on the air. The director is not looking at me, but at this moment I don’t think I could bear the touch of his gaze. When I find my voice, it sounds strangled in my ear: “Thank you, sir.”
    Across the table, Dr. Mewton clears her throat. “I’m sure we’ll be making adjustments to Sarah’s program in the weeks ahead, but you can begin implementing it at Langley.”
    I feel like hanging my head to hide my hurt, but I doubt Mr. Traut will look at me again.
    He lifts his pipe to his lips. “The assignment that brings me out today,” he says, exhaling, “has the potential to eliminate all intensive interrogation techniques. I’m sure you’re aware that we’ve come under fire for harsh interrogations in the past, but we believe this team can help us access a prisoner’s knowledge without eliciting pain of any kind.”
    Something in his choice of words— access knowledge?— sounds familiar. “Are you talking about voice stress analysis?” I ask. “Or some kind of improved polygraph?”
    “You’re on the right track.” Mr. Traut pulls a briefcase onto the table, punches in a code, and unlocks the clasps. He withdraws two copies of a spiral-bound document and slides them across the table, one to me and one to Dr. Mewton. He places a CD in Judson’s hand.
    “What we’ve acquired,” he says, “is a device that records and measures human brain waves. It’s far more accurate than a polygraph or vocal scan, and far less stressful than torture.”
    I scan the cover of the document, which has been labeled with the project name and classification: Sensitive Compartmented Information—Special Intelligence.
    I lift my chin and stare at the director’s profile. “You’re calling it Gutenberg? ”
    “After the man who invented the printing press. We’re hoping to invent a printing method, as well…a way to publish a legible, comprehensible record of what a brain knows.”
    “If you’ve already acquired this scanner, why do you need our help?”
    “Because the operating program is not infallible, nor has its potential been fully realized.” Mr. Traut leans forward and speaks directly to me, and for once he doesn’t deflect his gaze in reflexive discomfort. “We think you can come up with a way to render our brain scans mistake-proof. If you can fine-tune this program, our officers will never