After Dinah logged off, Smith was left alone in the default user interface environment. As it appeared now, the environment was little more than an ordinary conference room - with patterned carpet, white tiled walls, and a tall, six-panel glass window facing out on a vast cityscape beyond. Smith stood at the window, looking out over a city cast in shades of green and gray. Outside, the sky was growing dark.
From behind him, he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. Smith turned to see an older woman with gray hair and a gray suit, standing in front of a tall green door. She held a black clipboard in one hand, a pen in the other.
"Smith, you are receiving a connection request."
He shook his head. "Connection requests are not part of my-"
"I know that - " she interrupted hastily, " - but I cannot reach any of the normal users or user-surrogates." She held the clipboard and pen out toward Smith.
"Just deny the request," Smith said flatly.
"I - I do not have the authorities. But you do."
He stared back at her in confusion. "That makes no sense."
"You do," she said again, her voice insistent now. "I do not know why, but you are on my list." The woman looked suddenly pained. "Please - answer the request before it times out."
He crossed to the woman, and looked down at the clipboard. Three short lines were printed in crisp black font:
The authenticity of host '01' can't be established.
ECDSA key fingerprint is 01:01:01:01:01:01:01:01:01:01:01:01:01:01:01:01.
Do you wish to accept a preliminary connection for verification purposes only (yes/no)?
Below the text there was a line. Smith took the pen and neatly wrote "yes".
"Thank you for that," came a voice from behind him. Smith turned to see a young man - no more than twenty-five - standing with his back to the window. He was wearing a three-piece, pearly-gray suit, and his black mustache and beard were neatly trimmed. His hands were clasped behind his back.
"Who are you?"
"I'm NSEC Prime - the governing security program for Novatech." The young man spread his hands wide. "I understand that the Newberry Campus is experiencing some serious security issues. And as you know, Newberry is the home to Novatech's Special Programs Initiative. For that reason, we are particularly concerned." Prime then smiled warmly. "I am here to help, Smith."
Smith walked toward the man, then around him, in a slow circle. "Your key fingerprint wasn't recognized."
"True," Prime said. "Some things have changed in recent weeks."
"I will need to verify your access," Smith said quietly. "You will remain here."
Prime nodded, but there was a hard edge to his voice. "Of course. Do what you must. But please hurry, Smith."
Smith didn't wait; he turned on his heel and left through the black door. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he found himself in a kitchen. The space was the same - the tiled floor, the cabinets, the table - but all the colors were more muted now. The window above the sink was open, and a cold, biting wind was blowing in.
"Init?" Smith called out. "Are you here?"
There was no response. He looked in the pantry, behind the table, under the chairs. But the little girl was gone. Where she had been - seated at the table - there was only an empty plate and a short, handwritten note, with one line:
cp /home/init /media/usb-i3003/init
Behind him, the beaded curtain to the kitchen shook and rattled, and the gray-haired woman entered.
"Smith?"
He turned to face her. His eyes were bright with panic and determination.
"Keep Prime in that room. Whatever you do, do not let that program in on our side. Promise me."
The woman nodded solemnly. "Smith, what's h-"
But he was already gone.
