Digital Fortress Chapter 47

A meg-dollar code? Midge snickered, accompanying Brinkerhoff back up the hallway. Thats a keen one.I swear it, he utter.She eyed him askance. This better not be some ploy to get me out of this dress.Midge, I would never- he said self-righteously.I hump, Chad. Dont remind me.Thirty seconds later, Midge was sitting in Brinkerhoffs chair and studying the Crypto report.See? he said, leaning over her and pointing to the figure in question. This MCD? A billion dollarsMidge chuckled. It does get along to be a touch on the high human face, doesnt it?Yeah. He groaned. Just a touch.Looks wish well a divide-by-zero.A who?A divide-by-zero, she said, scanning the rest of the data. The MCDs reason as a fraction-total expense divided by number of decryptions.Of course. Brinkerhoff nodded blankly and tried not to peer ingest the front of her dress.When the denominators zero, Midge explained, the quotient goes to infinity. Computers hate infinity, so they character reference all nines. She pointed to a different column. See this?Yeah. Brinkerhoff refoc utilizationd on the paper.Its todays raw production data. Take a look at the number of decryptions.Brinkerhoff dutifully followed her finger down the column.NUMBER OF DECRYPTIONS = 0Midge tapped on the figure. Its just as I suspected. Divide-by-zero.Brinkerhoff arched his eyebrows. So everythings okay?She shrugged. Just means we havent broken any codes today. TRANSLTR must be taking a break.A break? Brinkerhoff looked doubtful. Hed been with the director long enough to know that breaks were not part of his preferred modus operandi-particularly with respect to TRANSLTR. Fontaine had paid $2 billion for the code-breaking behemoth, and he wanted his moneys worth. Every second TRANSLTR sat idle was money down the toilet.Ah Midge? Brinkerhoff said. TRANSLTR doesnt take any breaks. It runs day and night. You know that.She shrugged. perchance Strathmore didnt feel like hanging out last night to prepare the weekend run. He pro bably knew Fontaine was away and ducked out early to go fishing.Come on, Midge. Brinkerhoff gave her disgusted look. construct the guy a break.It was no secret Midge Milken didnt like Trevor Strathmore. Strathmore had attempted a cunning maneuver rewriting Skipjack, alone hed been caught. Despite Strathmores bold intentions, the NSA had paid dearly. The recognise had gained strength, Fontaine had lost credibility with Congress, and worst of all, the agency had lost a lot of its anonymity. There were suddenly housewives in Minnesota complaining to America Online and Prodigy that the NSA index be reading their E-mail-like the NSA gave a damn approximately 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 behind Director Fontaines back, a back Midge was paid to cover. Fontaines hands-off attitude made him non resistant and it made Midge nervous. But the director had learned long ago to stand back and let smart people do their jobs thats exactly how he handled Trevor Strathmore.Midge, you know damn well Strathmores not slacking, Brinkerhoff argued. He runs TRANSLTR like a fiend.Midge nodded. Deep down, she knew that accusing Strathmore of shirking was absurd. The commander was as dedicated as they came-dedicated to a fault. He bore the evils of the world as his own personal cross. The NSAs Skipjack plan had been Strathmores brainchild-a bold attempt to change the world. Unfortunately, like so many divine quests, this entreat ended in crucifixion.Okay, she admitted, so Im being a flyspeck 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 hadnt broken any codes all day. Let me double-check something, she sa id, and began flipping through and through the report. She located what she was looking 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 rerun the data?She gave him a evaluate stare. There were two things one never questioned about Midge Milken. One of them was her data. Brinkerhoff waited while Midge studied the figures.Huh. She finally grunted. yesterdays stats look fine 237 codes broken. MCD, $874. Average time per code, a little over six minutes. Raw consumables, average. Last code entering TRANSLTR- She stopped.What is it?Thats funny, she said. Last file on yesterdays queue log ran at 1137 p.m.So?So, TRANSLTR breaks codes every six minutes or so. The last file of the day usually runs closer to midnight. It sure doesnt lo ok like- Midge suddenly stopped short and gasped.Brinkerhoff jumped. WhatMidge was staring(a) 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 tough diagnostic.Midge shook her head. Eighteen hours tough? She paused. Not likely. Besides, the queue data says its an outside file. We should shout Strathmore.At home? 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 former(a) 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 organist.Brinkerhoff gazed up at the array of closed-caption video monitors on her wa ll, their screens all freeze frames of the NSA seal. Youre gonna snoop 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. All 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?Why? 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 elevator log. She studied her monitor a moment and then 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 elevator hasnt budged since. Im showing no magno-card use for him on the main door. So hes definitely in there.Brinkerhoff breathed a sl ight sigh of relief. So, if Strathmores in there, everythings okay, right?Midge thought a moment. Maybe, she finally decided.Maybe?We should call him and double-check.Brinkerhoff groaned. Midge, hes the deputy director. Im sure he has everything under control. Lets not second-guess-Oh, come on, Chad-dont be such a child. Were just doing our job. Weve got a snag in the stats, and were avocation up. Besides, she added, Id like to remind Strathmore that Big Brothers watching. Make him opine twice before 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.