Error 202
Chapter Ten: Shifted Blame
Written by: Okami of Shinobi Saru Corp
Getting up before the break of dawn sucked, but for Lentz the sacrifice came with a silver lining. Upon returning home for the day, he was greeting by the smiling face of his mother. And this time, there wasn't the ominous presence of his father to dampen the mood.
"Norman!" the blonde woman exclaimed, her eyes brightening at the pleasant surprise of seeing her son. "You're home early…" Her words trailed, expression changing from ecstatic to concerned. "Is everything at work okay?"
Lentz promptly greeted his mother with a hug. While everything was most certainly not okay at work, his returning early wasn't an indication of that.
Quickly, he reassured his mother, "No, no everything's cool. I just got called into work early today." Before his mother could pursue the subject, he asked, "How's everything at the hospital?"
Head tilted as the woman gave her son a knowing look. The kind of look that says 'you're an intelligent kid, how do you think it went today?' Or at least, that's how Lentz had always interpreted it.
"Oh, just the same ol' same ol'," the woman finally explained while returning to cutting and washing the various vegetables laid across the kitchen's island. It was then Lentz noticed the specific assortment of food: bell peppers, tomatoes, onions, corn, and most importantly, flour. His stomach leapt for joy; his mother was preparing Mexican food. He could practically taste her homemade tortillas already.
"You know how it is, busy all day with people coming in after overdosing on that damn drug." His mother paused, suddenly realizing the specific word that had just escaped her lips. "Don't you go repeating that word."
Lentz rolled his eyes, taking an apple from the fruit basket on the marble top counter. Like he hadn't thrown a million f-bombs in his day. "Mom, I'm not five."
"I know, I know," the woman said whilst cleaning off her cutting board. "But your father dislikes it and as your mother I'm inclined to at least pretend you have a decently clean vocabulary."
Leaning against the other side of the counter, Lentz smiled. While his mother was classy and professional, she had a tendency to swear profusely when riled up. His father, of course, hated such language, partly because he hated everything and partly because, as he put it, such language was beneath them.
Of course, no one dared curse in front of his father. Behind his back, however, Lentz, his sister, and his mother (albeit her pretending to keep her children away from such language) swore to their hearts content. Perhaps it was a mutual rebellion against his father, like a ship's crew secretly speaking ill about their captain behind closed doors. Perhaps it was just children taking after their mother. Or perhaps, it was as his mother said: practice using the full extent of the English language.
"I'm your son," Lentz teased. "Pretty sure I was saying fuck before dada."
Brown eyes met blue. Both knew the subtle, underlying message behind that statement.
The moment passed, his mother returned the sass with her own. "No, I'm pretty sure your first word was mama."
"Highly unlikely. Only a small percentage of children have that as their first word."
"Really?" the woman feigned surprise. "It was Liz's first word…"
Lentz shook his head. "Bullshit. Wasn't the first sound she made a cow noise?"
"Second," his mother corrected, tipping the utensil in her hand in his direction to emphasize her point. "That was her second little noise." She smiled in recollection.
"Speaking of…" Lentz inquired. "How is our resident Heartbreaker?"
A small laugh escaped his mom at her daughter's nickname. Liz had earned the title after turning down ten guys in one week her senior year in high school. Needless to say, she was well sought after whilst being wholly uninterested. A good combination for her ego, not so much for the poor young men chasing after her. Thus, Lentz had gifted her the nickname to take her down a few notches. As was his brotherly duty, of course.
"Funny you should ask. She called me on my way home work today," his mother replied, the chip-chop of the knife slicing through vegetables providing a backdrop to her words. "She loves all her classes and has made a lot of new friends."
His mother was attempting to put things nicely, but Lentz knew better. They both knew better.
"And lemme guess, half of those friends are male and have either expressed their interest or are about to?"
"Well, when you put it that way…" The two smiled, chuckling a bit at the shenanigans of their family member.
It was then a dull soreness in his shoulder from supporting his work bag registered in his brain. Further, it was then he remembered the task Connor had charged him with, filling him with a new bought of anxiety.
"I'm gonna go put this away," he motioned to his bag. "I have a quick work thing to do and then I'll be back down."
His mother's blue eyes searched him for a moment, then relented, fixating themselves back on her cooking. "Alright, well, I hope you're hungry cause I'm making food for twenty."
"Always!" Lentz called out as he swiftly made his way to the stairs.
And to his room.
And to his desk.
Settling himself in his chair, he pulled out the bottom, right drawer, scanning over the thin, stacked laptops within. One by one he mentally went through the systems, determining which one was the most expendable. After a brief moment, he selected his victim — a silver laptop second from the bottom.
Booting up the computer, he immediately logged into his email and searched for the message he had sent himself with the torrent file. Once the movie was located, he took a deep breath, his cursor hovering over the download option.
This was the moment of truth.
Once the file downloaded, he opened it, prompting the movie to play. Minimizing the screen, he pulled up a scan in the background to check the status of his systems, and waited. Usually scans took a while to complete, but this one in particular seemed to take a lifetime.
Meanwhile, he pondered his situation. He thought about Error 202. He thought about Connor. He thought about work. He wondered how no one else had caught on to this glitch yet. Surely Dr. Carr knew, else why did he create that code in the first place to de-bug the RK800? But it had failed. If one of the best programmers in the world had failed to solve the problem, then maybe he didn't really know what the problem was? Maybe he was still in the dark about Error 202? Maybe Lentz still had a chance to get out of this?
But then there was Connor. Surely people at the DPD knew. Connor was too clumsy for people not to at least wonder if something was wrong with the thing. Maybe they've contacted Dr. Carr? Maybe that was why he wrote the de-bugging code? Maybe that was why Lentz was called into work so fuckin' early that morning?
The intern sighed. This was like trying to solve an equation with fifty unknown variables. Why was Error 202 going undetected by every scan imaginable? Why was it deactivating androids? Was it even the thing that had deactivated the suspect in the first place? Why in a torrent file? But did it even originate in the torrent file? Would checking it here even help seeing as the virus hasn't been registered by any scans in the first place? And what about his work computer? That was the supposed, initial host of the virus after he downloaded the file, but it was fine and Connor was not.
Wait a minute.
His work computer was working.
He jumped up in his seat as if his butt had grown springs. Every code he had worked on and run since the night he worked on Connor had run smoothly, perfectly even. There were no signs of Error 202. No flickering lights, no weirdness with the printer. Nothing.
In fact, now that he thought about it, before he gifted it to Connor, his phone was working too, and he had attempted to play the movie on that before his work computer. The only time any of the systems that had come in contact with the torrent file had showed signs of containing a virus was when they were linked with Connor. Which meant…
An alert popped up on his screen:
Scan complete. No signs of malware detected.
Lentz ran another scan, one he had created himself for checking for bugs.
Scan complete. No signs of malware detected.
Shoving the laptop to the side, he pulled out another system from the drawer. Hurriedly, he opened his email, downloaded the file, and ran another scan.
Scan complete. No signs of malware detected.
Two other laptops appeared on his desk, simultaneously running various scans on the same file.
Scan complete. No signs of malware detected.
Scan complete. No signs of malware detected.
As one, final sanity check, Lentz ran another round of scans on the four laptops around him. Minutes ticked by, until finally, nearly all at once, completion messages displayed on each of the screens.
Scan complete. No signs of malware detected.
Scan complete. No signs of malware detected.
Scan complete. No signs of malware detected.
Scan complete. No signs of malware detected.
Scan complete. No signs of malware detected.
Hands on his head, Lentz leaned back into his chair.
Which meant it wasn't his fault. Error 202 didn't come from the torrent file. His job was fuckin saved.
Stunned, the intern took a moment to process the new discovery. Then the shock turned to excitement, then relief, and then panic.
If Error 202 didn't come from the file, then what had caused it? Or rather, who?
Snapping out of his stunned trance, Lentz fumbled through his workbag for his phone. Once the device was in his hands, he typed out a message:
From: Lentz
Time: 3:01 PM
The file is clean. I checked it on four different systems and ran at least three scans on each… nothing. Work computer is fully functional. My phone that you have, I downloaded the file on that first. It's also fine. Conclusion? Well, I'm not sure but, I think someone else at CyberLife has bugged you.
Woof!
The text tone rung in Connor's ears, pulling his attention away from the harsh, red numbers — 3:02 — that flickered on Hank's dashboard. In the moment he pulled the cellular device from his coat pocket, he couldn't help but note the all too frequent dog references that had suddenly filled his existence. While it served as a huge hindrance to his functionality, he supposed there were worse subjects he could have been bombarded with.
After all, Error 202 could have chosen cats.
On the phone's lock screen, Connor immediately recognized the source of the message, prompting him to hurriedly unlock the phone — without his hands, of course. He was an android, after all, and wirelessly activating and toying with other technology seemed like the only functional thing he could do at the moment.
At the top of the text, the first phrase caught his attention.
"The file is clean."
He took a moment to internalize that piece of information.
[…processing…processing complete]
The file is clean.
Conclusion not logical.
Hurriedly, Connor scanned the rest of the message, taking in each word as if it held the answer to the mystery of Ra9 and the lieutenant's bad behavior. Much like the first phrase, the last sentence held a particular weight to it.
"…I think someone else at CyberLife has bugged you."
Someone else? But how — why? — and when? Wanting answers, Connor typed out a response.
From: Connor
Time: 3:10 PM
Are you sure? How is your home computer fairing? I am equipped with CyberLife's version 5.6 debugging software and that has been unable to detect Error 202. Did the reports of the scans show any signs of the virus?
Breaking from his usual, rigid posture, Connor allowed his back to rest against the seat. He mulled over the details of the situation, trying to make sense of the new information. If this situation really could make sense, that is. While he had been the one to suggest this little experiment, he found it difficult to, at face value, trust the results of Lentz's scans. Error 202 did have a habit of going unnoticed by scans, after all, reducing Connor's trust in any program, including his own, to a minimum.
A sharp ring filled the vehicle. Connor didn't waste a moment in answering the call.
"Hello?" There was no name associated with the number, giving Connor no indication of what to expect from the other side.
"Okay, listen," the familiar voice of the intern began, "I ran like three scans on each of my computers. I swear, they all came back clean. No-fucking-thing. So like, just…" A pause. Connor noted the excessive traces of anxiety lacing the intern's words. The boy seemed rather perturbed. "Just hear me out before you go all Sherlock on me, okay?"
Connor wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, so he didn't.
"Okay, so here is my theory: someone at my work has bugged you. Why do I think that, you might ask? Well, I am so glad you did cause here's the thing, you weren't the first host of this virus. My phone was."
"You mentioned in your message that it was functioning at full capacity?"
"Yes. Unlike you, my work computer and printer and my phone has been acting completely normal. Same thing for my laptops. I've been playing War Gods on here and the frame rate has never been better."
[…processing… collecting data…]
War Gods is a dog.
Connor sighed, assuming the use of playing was attributed to some sort of game.
"I'm actually doing pretty good today."
"Great, but if your incompetence didn't create Error 202 then where did it come from?" Connor was shocked at the level of sarcastic bite to his words. He knew he was displeased with his current situation — what android wouldn't be irked at such an interference with their mission? — but he hadn't realized the extent of his disdain.
Not surprisingly, Lentz bit right back. "Sheesh. Look, I know you've been turned into a helpless klutz, but it isn't the end of the world."
Visions of failed missions and deviants extinguishing the human race raced through Connor's systems. "For me, no. But if I were you, I'd be a little more concerned about the fate of your race."
"I never knew androids could be such drama queens…" Lentz mumbled, nearly provoking a less-than-pleasant response from Connor, but the RK800 quickly regained his composure.
"I will repeat, if not you then who or what is responsible for Error 202. You cannot merely destroy a theory without providing an explanation of your own."
Another groan came from the intern, though Connor could care less about the intern's attitude. "My best guess is someone at CyberLife. They are the only ones you've been in a vulnerable state to and who have had access to your databases. As to specifically who, well, I am not sure…"
Connor took a moment to sort through the list of people he knew worked at CyberLife who he had come into contact with. Sadly, the list was far from comprehensive given that he was usually shut off during his stay at headquarters. But he would make-do, something he was becoming far too familiar with, in his book.
[…collecting data… collection complete]
Potential Suspects:
Kristine L. Leon — CyberLife Prototype Director
Y**o98908u
Greg P. Greggen — Social Integration Team Lead
re8a*lly ca5n't figurre th^9834is o9ut8&?
Dr. WOOFERS! — The Doctor of all Good Woofers
[…analysis interrupted]
"Hey, are you still there?"
Ignoring the intern, Connor lowered the phone from his ear. In the midst of his analysis, he could've sworn he had heard… well, he wasn't entirely sure. It was like a voice, yet not audible. Perhaps it was another development in Error 202? Or perhaps it was a fluke?
Or perhaps he was going insane?
Now there was a thought. An entirely improbable theory — androids don't have a sanity to begin with — though if decaying code was the android equivalent to mental instability, then perhaps he was onto something…
"Helllllooooo? Did Error 202 make you mute now?"
"I'm here." Jolted back to the situation at hand, Connor continued, "We need more information about your fellow employees at CyberLife. Who else has had access to my programming at the MTD?"
Lentz took a moment before responding. "Um, lemme think… Just myself and Dr. Carr. Though Dr. Carr is out of the picture cause he's trying to fix all this."
"'How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?'"
"Um, excuse me?"
With a deadpan snarkiness, Connor explained, his voice not once breaking from its fluidity, "It is a quote."
"Obviously." Connor could practically hear Lentz rolling his eyes.
"Then you must know that it would be illogical to fully eliminate your superior from the list of potential suspects."
"Okay, well, as you said, we need more information."
"Precisely, which is why I need you to gain intel on the list of people I send to you."
Lentz all but spat into the phone, causing Connor to pull the device away from his face. "And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?"
While the features on his face remained unchanged, Connor couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction in saying the following words: "Seeing as you have a talent for downloading illegal movie material in a government building, my calculations indicate a high probability of you figuring it out."
"Fuck that!" Lentz exclaimed with a sarcastic laugh. "You didn't calculate shit. In fact—!"
Looking out the window, Connor noted the lieutenant devouring some ghastly sustenance he reluctantly labeled as food. While risky, he needed to explain his actions to the lieutenant and plan out the next steps of the investigation.
Cutting Lentz off, Connor said, "I will send you the list momentarily. We will speak again after you gather the required intel."
And with that he hung up. After putting away the phone, Connor honed in on the lieutenant, adjusting his tie before exiting the vehicle.