Digital Fortress Chapter 47

A billion-dollar code? Midge snickered, accompanying Brinkerhoff certify up the h onlyway. Thats a good oneness.I control it, he said.She eyed him askance. This better non be some ploy to get me egress of this dress.Midge, I would never- he said self- slumpeously.I tell apart, Chad. Dont inspire me. 30 seconds later, Midge was nonplusting in Brinkerhoffs chair and studying the Crypto report. study? he said, leaning everyplace her and pointing to the figure in question. This MCD? A billion dollarsMidge chuckled. It does appear to be a touch on the high side, doesnt it? yeah. He groaned. exclusively a touch.Looks like a divide-by-zero.A who?A divide-by-zero, she said, scanning the rest of the data. The MCDs calculated as a fraction-total expense divided by cast of decryptions.Of course. Brinkerhoff nodded blankly and tried not to peer down the effort of her dress.When the denominators zero, Midge explained, the quotient goes to infinity. Computers hate infinity, so they typ e all nines. She pointed to a different column. See this?Yeah. Brinkerhoff refocused on the paper.Its to daylights raw takings data. Take a look at the number of decryptions.Brinkerhoff duti bounteousy followed her finger down the column.NUMBER OF DECRYPTIONS = 0Midge tapped on the figure. Its just as I suspected. Divide-by-zero.Brinkerhoff bend his eye brows. So everythings okay?She shrugged. Just means we havent worried any codes right away. TRANSLTR must be taking a break.A break? Brinkerhoff looked doubtful. Hed been with the director want rich to cope that breaks were not part of his preferred modus operandi-particularly with reckon to TRANSLTR. Fontaine had paid $2 billion for the code-breaking behemoth, and he precious his coins worth. Every second TRANSLTR sit idle was coin down the toilet.Ah Midge? Brinkerhoff said. TRANSLTR doesnt take any breaks. It runs day and night. You know that.She shrugged. Maybe Strathto a greater extent didnt feel like hanging out last night to prepare the weekend run. He probably knew Fontaine was away and ducked out early to go fishing.Come on, Midge. Brinkerhoff gave her disgusted look. Give the guy a break.It was no surreptitious Midge Milken didnt like Trevor Strathmore. Strathmore had attempted a cunning maneuver rewriting Skipjack, but hed been caught. scorn Strathmores bold intentions, the NSA had paid dearly. The EFF had gained strength, Fontaine had lost credibleness with Congress, and worst of all, the agency had lost a hand out of its anonymity. There were suddenly housewives in Minnesota kvetch to America On business sector and Prodigy that the NSA might be rendering their E-mail-like the NSA gave a damn about a secret recipe for candied yams.Strathmores blunder had cost the NSA, and Midge felt responsible-not that she could have anticipated the commanders stunt, but the bottom line was that an unauthorized action had taken place in arrears Director Fontaines back, a back Midge was paid to co ver. Fontaines hands-off attitude made him susceptible and it made Midge nervous. unless the director had learned long ago to carry back and let smart people do their jobs thats exactly how he handled Trevor Strathmore.Midge, you know damn sanitary Strathmores not slacking, Brinkerhoff argued. He runs TRANSLTR like a fiend.Midge nodded. difficult down, she knew that accusing Strathmore of shirking was absurd. The commander was as devote as they came-dedicated to a fault. He bore the evils of the institution as his own personal cross. The NSAs Skipjack object had been Strathmores brainchild-a bold attempt to change the world. Unfortunately, like so many divine quests, this crusade ended in crucifixion.Okay, she admitted, so Im being a littler harsh.A little? Brinkerhoff eyes narrowed. Strathmores got a backlog of files a mile long. Hes not about to let TRANSLTR sit idle for a whole weekend.Okay, okay. Midge sighed. My mistake. She furrowed her brow and puzzled why TRANSLTR ha dnt broken any codes all day. Let me double-check something, she said, and began flipping through the report. She located what she was looking at for and scanned the figures. After a moment she nodded. Youre right, Chad. TRANSLTRs been running full force. Raw consumables are even a little on the high side were at over half a million kilowatt-hours since midnight last night.So where does that leave us?Midge was puzzled. Im not sure. Its odd.You want to rebroadcast the data?She gave him a disapproving stare. There were 2 things one never questioned about Midge Milken. One of them was her data. Brinkerhoff waited mend Midge studied the figures.Huh. She finally grunted. Yesterdays stats look fine 237 codes broken. MCD, $874. mediocre time per code, a little over sise minutes. Raw consumables, average. hold out code entering TRANSLTR- She stopped.What is it?Thats funny, she said. Last file on yesterdays line up log ran at 1137 p.m.So?So, TRANSLTR breaks codes every vi minutes or so. The last file of the day usually runs closer to midnight. It sure doesnt look like- Midge suddenly stopped short and gasped.Brinkerhoff jumped. WhatMidge was staring at the readout in disbelief. This file? The one that entered TRANSLTR last night?Yeah?It hasnt broken yet. Its queue time was 233708-but it lists no decrypt time. Midge fumbled with the sheets. Yesterday or todayBrinkerhoff shrugged. Maybe those guys are running a pugnacious diagnostic.Midge shook her head. Eighteen hours tough? She paused. Not likely. Besides, the queue data says its an outside file. We should call Strathmore.At foundation? Brinkerhoff swallowed. On a Saturday night?No, Midge said. If I know Strathmore, hes on top of this. Ill bet good money hes here. Just a hunch. Midges hunches were the other thing one never questioned. Come on, she said, standing up. Lets see if Im right.Brinkerhoff followed Midge to her office, where she sat down and began to work Big Brothers keypads like a virtuoso pipe org anist.Brinkerhoff gazed up at the line up of closed-caption video monitors on her wall, their screens all freeze frames of the NSA seal. Youre gonna spy Crypto? he asked nervously.Nope, Midge replied. Wish I could, but Cryptos a sealed deal. Its got no video. No sound. No nothing. Strathmores orders. both Ive got is approach stats and basic TRANSLTR stuff. Were lucky weve even got that. Strathmore wanted total isolation, but Fontaine insisted on the basics.Brinkerhoff looked puzzled. Crypto hasnt got video? wherefore? she asked, without turning from her monitor. You and Carmen looking for a little more privacy?Brinkerhoff grumbled something inaudible.Midge typed some more keys. Im pulling Strathmores rhytidoplasty log. She studied her monitor a moment and thus rapped her knuckle on the desk. Hes here, she said matter-of-factly. Hes in Crypto right now. Look at this. Talk about long hours-he went in yesterday morning bright and early, and his cosmetic surgery hasnt budged since . Im showing no magno-card use for him on the important door. So hes definitely in there.Brinkerhoff breathed a slight sigh of relief. So, if Strathmores in there, everythings okay, right?Midge archetype a moment. Maybe, she finally decided.Maybe?We should call him and double-check.Brinkerhoff groaned. Midge, hes the replacement director. Im sure he has everything under control. Lets not second-guess-Oh, suffer on, Chad-dont be such a child. Were just doing our job. Weve got a snag in the stats, and were following up. Besides, she added, Id like to remind Strathmore that Big Brothers watching. Make him think twice forrader planning any more of his hare-brained stunts to save the world. Midge picked up the phone and began dialing.Brinkerhoff looked uneasy. You really think you should bother him?Im not bothering him, Midge said, tossing him the receiver. You are.