Chapter 2
“Net Threats”
U.S. Cyber Corps Headquarters
National Threat and Intelligence Fusion Center
November 25, 2049
Herndon, Virginia
1230 hours
Captain Anson Leeds took the stairs down to NTIFC’s Watch Center three at a time. This better not be another false alarm, he told himself. There had been enough of those the last week to last a lifetime. He checked his wristpad and grunted as he nearly twisted an ankle on the stairs landing. Another Level 1 alert and more threatcons to follow. Something had stirred up WorldNet like a stick in a bees’ nest. The most recent alerts from Quantum Corps had called it Configuration Zero, or something like that.
The Watch Center was a semi-circular mission control room with screens and displays on every available surface. The Big Board showed an outline of North America, the eastern seaboard to be exact. Red, green, blue and white lights blinked on and off, strobing in synch with key node and server farm activity levels, as the Net breathed and pulsed zettabytes of data every second around the earth and into near-earth space.
Leeds spotted the Current Status desk and headed for it. He recognized the two duty officers right away: Lieutenant Linda Tracey and Sergeant Will Vogt.
Good techs, both of them. Leeds knew they’d be on top of anything that came up.
“What have you got for me guys?” Leeds landed next to their station and studied the Big Board. The entire east coast was flickering with lights and data blocks.
Tracey was harried, shaking her head, swearing under her breath. “It’s ECSO, sir…East Coast System Operator. We’ve got a Level 1 cascade going down right now…multiple flashovers in key junctions…transients up and down the network…race conditions at two control centers….”
“And threatcons coming in from WorldNet like a tsunami, sir,” added Vogt. “High risk gradients on all of them. Look at this—“he pointed to a display on his console, scrolling system status from multiple nodes. “Server firewalls breached at every location. Rootkit exploits popping up everywhere like mushrooms. Tricky stuff too, sir. Runtime environment’s contaminated at over a hundred nodes. They’re re-directing, but this baby’s spreading fast. Jamestown’s already down. I’ve got twenty others on the edge.” Vogt threw up his hands. “There goes Watkinsville and Cliff Valley…that whole sector’s toast. I haven’t seen anything like this in months, maybe years. We may be looking at kernel-level rootkits here…maybe even some zero-day stuff.”
Leeds could see it was serious. A growing power blackout was rippling up and down the U.S. eastern seaboard. Along with the blackout and its cascading effects radiating outward like cracks in a sidewalk, WorldNet alarms were going off, lending a circus-like atmosphere to the Watch Center. Techs scurried from one station to another. People gestured. Voices were raised. Fingers were pointed.
Something was attacking key nodes and server centers around the world, something big and coordinated. Was it a drill? Another exercise ordered by General Pacer? Leeds hadn’t seen anything on the boards lately about an upcoming exercise. The bi-annual Com-Ex games weren’t due for another four months. Not that the USCINCCYBER needed an excuse to run a drill…or an ORI visit. Operational Readiness Inspections made everyone‘s breakfast taste like brass fillings.
“What does COHEN have to say?” The AI that ran the Watch Center had been given the nickname months ago, coming online after years of testing and debugging. The Cyber Operations and Heuristic Algorithmic Network could digest yottabytes of data every second and spit out analyses and conclusions like a university professor on steroids. Plus some wise guy had adorned the voice response system with a faint Yiddish accent. Jokes, puns and wisecracks abounded in the weeks after COHEN went live.
“COHEN thinks this is a Sandstorm variant, Captain,” Tracey said. “It’s seeing some of the same kinds of exploits, some of the same techniques, digital certificates, grabbing protected memory and buffer-overflow tricks. This one may be an updated variant of earlier Russian or Chinese versions…Sandstorm with some new tools.”
Leeds bent down to study the code scrolling on Tracey’s screen. COHEN was filtering and comparing and running correlations at high speed, too fast for any human to follow. All you could do was trust the system and try to get out of the way.
“I’m seeing bits and pieces of Sandstorm here,” Leeds admitted. “Kernel-mode stuff. Lots of .dll calls. But something’s different…look, even COHEN thinks so.” Even as Leeds watched, the AI was flagging code blocks and lines that it didn’t understand, or couldn’t find any compares to list. “Analysis, guys? What about this Configuration Zero stuff we saw the other day? I’ve got to give something to CINCCYBER in about ten minutes. Anytime a Level One sounds, Pacer wants the gritty details on his desk immediately, if not sooner.”
“Sir, I think we should deal with this as an updated, maybe altered or souped-up version of Sandstorm, until we learn differently. There are differences and things COHEN can’t figure out. I’ve seen a few gotchas and Easter eggs myself, just in the last hour. But treating this like Sandstorm gives us a place to start.”
“How about attribution? Or are we dealing with a botnet here or a cutout network?”
“Unknown, sir. Even COHEN can’t keep up with all the proxies, Captain,” said Vogt. “They’re exploding like mushrooms.”
Or like nanobots in big bang overdrive, thought Leeds. But he didn’t say that. Only Quantum Corps pukes really believed that. “Okay, boys and girls, I’m headed upstairs. Give me the latest and I’ll put it before Pacer as a probable Sandstorm attack.”
Vogt synched COHEN’s emitter at their station and the analytics went straight to Leeds’ wristpad. The captain checked the results, pronounced himself satisfied and headed out of the Watch Center.
CINCYBER’s office suite was seven stories up, the penthouse view of snow-covered rolling hills and Virginia horse country. Leeds rode the secure lift and found himself face to face with General Wesley Pacer, who frowned and chewed the end of toothpick as he scowled at his own display.
“COHEN’s got his hands full today, Captain. Sit, sit. You’re saying this is Sandstorm we’re facing? What about the power outages?”
Leeds sat down. Pacer was mid-fifties, not enhanced, so far as anyone knew. Steel gray crew-cut, hard cheeks and facial planes, like a shovel blade with eyes. Big ears that stuck out and absolutely no one made any wisecracks about them, if they wanted to live. Pacer was a doer. He got things done.
“ECSO is at the center of this, General. It’s a cascading failure and all the telemetry shows the same thing. We’ve got multiple surges, overvolt and undervolt events and none of the system controllers can balance the load…it’s like something’s infected all of them. They’re sluggish, when they operate at all. There’s a two-hundred gigawatt load sloshing around out there like a runaway freight train…wreaking havoc everywhere it lands. None of the generators can account for it. It just appeared. This Sandstorm event’s caused server and alarm failures up and down the line. Multiple voltage and power spikes and we’re completely blind to what’s happening.”
Pacer snapped the toothpick clean in two with his clenched teeth. “I’ve already sent a PURPLE message to the Pentagon, the State Department and the White House. I’ve also activated CyberFence but all these countermeasures are like taking this toothpick here and poking an elephant. Net result has been zero. Hell, we may have actually made things worse. The friggin’ blackout’s spreading into Canada and west to the Great Lakes. Even places in western Europe are going offline. I expect POTUS will be making a call here any minute.”
“Sir, the consensus from COHEN is that Sandstorm’s responsible, but we don’t know who. Maybe the Russians. Maybe the Chinese. Maybe some Bulgarian teen-ager. Maybe this Configuration Zero or the Old Ones from outer space. But there are some significant differences, things
we can’t ignore.”
“Like what, Leeds?”
“The rate this thing is spreading, for one thing, sir. Even in all the past exploits and assaults, even in the COM-EX exercises, no virus or worm or Trojan or logic bomb or any kind of malware has spread this far, this fast. It essentially erupted everywhere at once, like a global instantaneous assault at every WorldNet server center and node at the same time. It’s like there are ghosts inside the Net, inside PHAROAH itself. Something at the very heart of WorldNet’s operating system that mirrors every action, every command and link, and every execution, then when the right word or condition comes, pow!... it puts a hand over PHAROAH’s mouth and starts running the whole show. I’m wondering if we’ve got some kind of malware right in PHAROAH’S main memory, right in the very kernel of the system.”
Pacer was about to respond, but the Crystal vidcon chirped, indicating encrypted traffic coming in. The Seal of the Presidency flashed up on the screen.
“Here he is, Leeds…right on cue. Good day, Mr. President.”
On screen was Samuel L. Kenley, President of the United States. POTUS was white-haired, ruddy-cheeked from a recent ski trip to Vail, Colorado, where the Leader of the Free World had hung out for the last week in a borrowed mansion the size of a small country.
Leeds started to get up but Pacer waved him back to his seat. “Stick around,” he told Leeds. “I may need you. Sir, I just flashed the latest from COHEN to your inbox. We think it’s Sandstorm again, maybe a newer version.”
Kenley’s face was a map of conflicting emotions, all boundaries and crags and wrinkles, fighting each other. He blinked at the screen. “Attribution’s all I care about, General, at this point. Is this Russia? Is this China? I need somebody to blame. The public’ll have my head in a noose if I can’t blame somebody. This—“ he stopped when he realized they had a new participant on the line.
The vidcon had chirped and another window opened up on the screen. It was the UN Security Affairs Commissioner, Evelyn Lumumba. UNSAC was an ebony-black Cameroonian woman of striking beauty, with fierce warrior eyes and bristly conical hair, adorned by an ivory and bone hairpiece that rattled when she turned her head. She conned in from UNSAC’s offices at the Quartier-General in Paris.
“Good afternoon, Evelyn,” POTUS said. “I was just asking General Pacer here if it’s Russia or China again.’
CINCCYBER was unequivocal in his answer. “Without a doubt, Mr. President. Couldn’t be anybody else. The forensics all point that way.”
Not all of them, Leeds thought to himself. But he said nothing.
Lumumba sat back and thought. Her hairpiece rattled again. “I’d say maybe, Mr. President. We’ve seen the analyses your COHEN system has sent over. But our own people think there could be other explanations. Already, we’ve detected quantum state fluctuations around the perimeter of south Asia…indicating this Configuration Zero’s up to something again. We don’t know that much about him, so we don’t know what’s up, but a team has already been formed to track down these disturbances and make sure Config Zero stays quiet. Quantum Corps is working up a mission now.”
UNSAC words galvanized Leeds. The moment seemed opportune. He raised a hand to flag CINCCYBER’s attention. “General, if I may--?”
Pacer waved him on. “Go ahead, Major.”
“Sir, I guess I have something of a contrary view. There are network indicators we should be considering here…the speed of the infection, if that’s what it is. The nature of the assault…we’re looking at kernel-rootkit assault, right at the very core of PHAROAH, the Net operating system. The fact that there appears to be a series of very serious, very subtle zero-day backdoors going on here, even inside Russia and China. This thing has appeared out of nowhere and appeared everywhere almost instantly. That tells me this is a foundational attack, something fundamental to the very protocols that operate WorldNet and Solnet. Even Gateway Station and Farside are reporting malware on their systems. Quantum Corps Q2 has even theorized about some kind of semi-sentient dust falling from space.”
POTUS was unconvinced. “So the Russians and the Chinese are also infected…that means nothing. At the end of World War II, Stalin shot his own repatriated POWs and soldiers. Couldn’t let the Perfect Society be contaminated by exposure to the Nazis or the other Allies. This proves nothing.”
UNSAC and CINCCYBER nodded in unison. POTUS cleared his throat and ran a hand through an unruly lock of white hair. The man was starting to resemble Einstein on a bad hair day. “Major, your concerns and analysis are duly noted. However, I’m going with the preponderance of the evidence. I’ve seen enough. It’s Russia. Or China. It has to be. And once and for all, it’s high time for us to retaliate. I am going to authorize CyberSword. General, make all necessary preparations and load up your guns. Then come back to me for authority to proceed. I’ll clear it with our friends at the UN and with State and Defense.”
Pacer nodded. “At once, sir. Mr. President, you are fully aware of what authorizing CyberSword means…we did a run-through during the last Com-Ex.”
POTUS took a deep breath. “I do, General. A massive pre-planned offensive cyber response to this Sandstorm attack, taking out trunk lines and key nodes and major server installations inside Russia and China. I fully expect we’ll cripple large sectors of both nations’ economy and industry. It’s well past time to teach these jokers a lesson they won’t forget. We can play the same game as them.”
Anson Leeds swallowed hard. What President Kenley has just authorized was a massive ‘nuclear’ response. A killing response. He couldn’t help shake the feeling. CyberSword wasn’t what was needed. It would cause more problems than it solved. It was like taking a howitzer to a gnat. Not only that, Leeds was more and more convinced the gnat wasn’t the problem. While Kenley and Pacer and Lumumba were chasing gnats, other bugs had somehow crawled into the Net from a different direction. Leeds was sure of it.
He just couldn’t prove it yet.
The President and UNSAC discussed coordination between the U.S. and UNIFORCE for a few minutes.
“Well, I’ve got a press conference in an hour,” Kenley said. “I suppose I’ll get hammered by all the reporters over what we’re doing. But damn it…the Russians and the Chinese can’t just slam our infrastructure with viruses and worms and expect to get away with it. Sooner or later, somebody’s got to pay. And now’s the time.”
Lumumba agreed. “It’s past time to take the initiative, Mr. President. I’ll advise the Security Council and the SG of your plans. And we’ll need to make sure there are good communication links between Quantum Corps and your Cyber Corps people.”
Pacer chimed in. “I’ve got just the liaison in mind, Mr. President. Major Leeds here has worked with Table Top and other Quantum Corps sites for several years now. They participate in our Com-Ex exercises every year, sometime as a Red Force, sometimes with us as part of Blue. In fact, they have some people coming up here even as we speak.”
“Perfect,” Kenley decided. “Now if you’ll excuse me—“ The vidcon link to the White House went dark, to be replaced by the Presidential Seal.
“I’ll talk with CINCQUANT myself,” Lumumba was saying. “General Argo will want to keep his forces on full alert when CyberSword goes down. The Russians and the Chinese will surely respond in kind after we drop a few logic bombs on them. I’m authorizing ThreatCon One. Argo will have to keep his botshields humming at every site. There’s no telling where the enemy will strike.”
“Agreed,” Pacer said. UNSAC signed off and the vidcon was over. The General turned to Leeds.
“Leeds, have you lost your cotton-pickin’ mind? What’s all this crap about ‘shadows in the Net’ and men from Mars? This is full-scale cyberwar and we know who did it. I don’t want to hear any more fairy tales about space dust and alien invasions. These Quantum Corps jokers see shadows everywhere. We’ve got a war on.
The President has just authorized CyberSword and we’ve got a job to do... you’ve got a job to do.”
Leeds was already wishing he had kept his big mouth shut. With POTUS’ orders, Pacer was like a retriever on the hunt…he smelled blood and nothing would dissuade him. “Sir, I just happen to think CyberSword is not necessary. It’ll do more harm than good, for all of us. It’s an over-response.”
“I suppose we should just let all these worms and viruses run wild around the Net, destroying our power plants and water supplies…Major Leeds, I know you better than that. You and I both took an oath of office. After Sandstorm or whatever the hell this is, if we didn’t respond and return fire, we should both be tried for treason and shot.”
Leeds shook his head. “That’s not it, sir. There’s more going on inside WorldNet than just Russian or Chinese cyber-mischief.”
Pacer scoffed. “What proof do you have, son?”
“Ever heard of the ADAM Project, General? James Tsu’s in charge of that effort.”
Pacer thought for a moment, then recognition came to him. “Isn’t he that egghead down at the Wizard Works?”
“CyberLab, sir…that’s the official name. The ADAM Project is a research effort that’s looking into whether or not the Net could be exhibiting evidence of sentience, even intelligence. It’s become complex enough and there’s a school of thought that says once a system becomes that complex, it can achieve something like intelligence. You personally approved the effort, sir.”
Pacer frowned. “I must have been out of my mind. It doesn’t matter anyway. The Commander-in-Chief has given us our orders. It’s our job to obey and carry them out. Keep monitoring and analyzing the situation…keep feeding stuff to COHEN and see what he comes up with. As for me, I’ve got a war to run.”
Major Anson Leeds was dismissed and returned to the Watch Center downstairs. Cyber-hell was about to be let loose across WorldNet and Leeds had a bad feeling about what would happen. If James Tsu was even half right, the Net or whatever had infected the Net was about to get a big kick in the pants. CyberSword would soon send insane quantities of worms, viruses, logic bombs, Trojans and other malware flying across the Net. The Russians and the Chinese would do the same.
A cat fight was a certainty and nobody could say who would get scratched worse after it got started.