A Surprise USB

Summary:
October 27, 2014: Lunair receives a usb which is encrypted and seeks the services of Babs Gordon…

Clock Tower - Gotham

A locally famous landmark, the Gotham Clock Tower is located in the Central Business District. Tours haven't run in years, though, since the building was bought out by a group of bird-lovers known as the Nightingale Society. Still, it's a well-known part of the Downtown skyline. From the outside it looks unused, but the clock is clearly maintained as it still runs on time, and now and again people can be seen coming and going. The bottom floor looks mostly disused, with a long hallway ending in a bookshelf full of coffee table books about birds. To either side of the hall are sparsely furnished rooms. The walls show illustrations of local Gotham feathery sorts, and charts on bird migrations. Cabinets store various bits of bird-watching equipment.

The doors to the stairs require a key card to access, probably to deter vandalism. The upper floors are only accessible by a secret elevator. The doorways to access it them the stairs have been bricked over and drywalled. On the living quarters floor, each door requires a keycard and voice recognition, except for the door to the training facility at the end of the hall, which requires palm, optical, and voice recognition. The top floor, however, is the most secure of all.

The pale glow of the four massive translucent clock-faces dominate the four compass points of the lair, casting everything in a warm light by night, and cool light by day. the natural brick walls of the buildings exterior are left visible on one wall while the others are painted a pristine white. The ceilings have recessed and track lighting, and the floors are smooth pale wood. There is a lounge area and even a kitchen, as well as other facilities here. The insulation around the top floor is meant to keep scanners and eavesdropping equipment from being able to image what's inside.

Mainframes and back-up generators line most of the walls in rooms of clear glass kept from overheating with with high-tech coolant systems. In front of one clock face is an enormous computer system laid out on a long, custom desk, lower than average, just the right height for Oracle's wheelchair. There is a command chair for use when needed, which slides on rails along the length of the desk. A huge bank of monitors are arrayed in a horseshoe shape around the desk, with the ability to form one large picture or individual smaller ones.


Characters

NPCs

  • none

Mood Music:


Midafternoon in the Clocktower is normally a quiet time. Adults are at work, Children are at school and those that Oracle and the Bat Family are most interested in, prefer to conduct their business in the dark of the night (well normally).

In the monitoring room, the screens are filled with video feeds and data streams, casting the room in a flickering glow. Oracle sits in her chair, her hands folded in her lap, green eyes scanning the windows, simply watching. So far, things are as quiet as expected.

***

A single usb, delivered in an unmarked envelope to Lunair's doorstep, with a large winged bird embossed on the side. There's no other markings to show who it might belong to, just an eagle embossed on either side of this grey metal stick. Inside the envelope with it is a simple one word note which reads "Answers". It's highly encrypted, beyond military levels of encryption, the kind that some could find very interesting.

***

Huh. Lunair got … mail? Of some sort? She was at class most of the day, and she'll plug it into a spare laptop. Lunair is a young mercenary, but she's no fool. She keeps a spare laptop just for this sort of thing. Also, getting a porn virus? Would totally be embarrassing. But what the noodles can she do with this? She fidgets. Well, maybe there's a company… She packs the USB and it's cap into her bag, taking her scooter (wearing a helmet, mind. Luna doesn't need to be naturally selected out of the gene pool QUITE so early) out into Gotham and nearer and nearer the clock tower. Is that where…

***

Oracle watches and waits. The fact it's quiet is both a blessing and a curse - on one hand, nothing bads happening; on the other hand, it is rather boring. Turning her attention to the video feeds, Oracle checks them for anything unusual Oracle notes the scooter that is travelling through Gotham, but nothing about it sets off any alarm bells, just an ordinary scooter moving through the streets. Stretching, Oracle shifts slightly before settling back down.

***

The streets of Gotham are as quiet as they always are, that is to say background noise of low level robberies being foiled by up and coming hero's a few old ladies losing their purses a fire here or there. All in all a quiet night in Gotham, though back in Lunair's apartment the laptop turns itself back on, something ruffling through for files, before shutting itself right back down.

***

Lunair's scooter is kind of cute, girly lavender with ivy vinyl stickers along the side. And she is unaware that anyone is in or on her laptop. It's a spare, so the most important thing on there is likely her Plants vs Zombies save game. Her path takes her near the Clocktower, and she's directly nearby when she pulls her phone out. Something about this USB drive is bothering her. And on her laptop is one other important thing: Some information on her past. She's a medical experiment with a serum in her blood that might grant powers. That could be bad.

***

An incoming call notification shows up on one of Oracles screens. The number being called is her cover business and as Oracle taps her communicator, she answers "Good afternoon, Barbara Gordon speaking, How may I help you?"

Oracle is still watching the monitors and sees the Scooter stop outside the building, the rider holding a mobile phone to their ear. A small smile crosses Oracles face.

***

"Hello!" Lunair greets Barbara cheerily. She's trying to sound and emote properly. "Do you know much about unencrypting USB drives? I found a weird one…" She offers quietly. She is parked safely, because believe it or not, Lunair is a bit smarter than to drive and talk on the phone. "I don't mind paying! But it is seriously weird."

***

The trace that started when the phone call connected, displays the location of the caller. It is the Scooter rider just across the road, interesting. Oracle replies to the caller "Yes, I know a bit about that. Whether I can help and the fee really depends on how it's encrypted though." there's a small pause and then a chuckle "Although, I haven't met one that's beat me yet. Who am I speaking to and when do you need this done" Oracle is all business, professional and straight to the point.

***

A cold breeze blows over Gotham, sirens blazing as a few cop cars speed past headed who knows where. They're speeding at a good pace but it's all just to be expected for someone living in Gotham. On Lunairs spare laptop information is gathered and sent out, before the program quite simply rewrites itself into the operating system going completely dormant.

***

Huh. Poor Lunair has no idea her laptop is doing what it's doing. Probably a good thing, lest someone eat a lot of bullets. Hopefully those cop cars aren't headed towards said laptop. But for now, unair listens. "Really? And sure, I haven't been able to make heads or tails of it." She goes quiet a moment. "This is Lunair Weir. And whenever is good, probably soon. I tried to open it with my throwaway laptop in case it had a weird virus, but no. Just some crazy strong protection. It's a USB stick." Pause. "With this marking…" She describes the winged mark.

***

Oracle makes a note of the symbol, it sounds amazingly like the Shield logo, but less. She'll know more when she's it. "My office is in Gotham, next to the Clocktower. I have time this afternoon, when can you be here Ms Weir?"

***

The cars are there and gone in short order speeding along rather quickly five in total rounding the corner. Whatever they're going after must be important, as the lights vanish off into the distance.

***

How odd. Lunair watches the cars go by. She hms. "I'm in Gotham at the moment, by the um, Clocktower- building actually. I wanted some stuff-" And really, does Oracle really wanna hear Luna's shopping list? Probably not. "Whenever is good! I can entertain myself awhile if I need to."

***

Oracle smirks, knowing where this caller is. Grabbing her tablet, she dims the screens in the monitoring room and heads out to the office she uses for this cover business. "Meet at this address" and she relays the details, Lunair will see it is the office right across the street from her "in 10 minutes." Oracle has noticed the cars, but speeding cars, Gotham, not so unusual.

***

By the time Lunair reaches the location provided, she finds Babs Gordon - IT Security Specialist. After receiving the drive, and a short discussion on how Lunair came to be in possession of it, Babs moves around her office.

She plugs the drive into a unnetworked, completely standalone laptop and examines the contents. "Very interesting, Ms Weir. This is an extremely high level of encryption. And you say you don't know where it comes from or recognise that logo? Have you looked at this drive at all on another computer?"

***

Lunair doesn't seem aware. She lacks senses to do so. But hey, that's life as a person without cool digi powers or clairvoyance. "Sure thing." Lunair nods. She will go get herself a nice soda before she arrives and returns to meet up with Babs. "Yeah, no idea. I put it on my laptop and … left my laptop," She winces. "But it just sort of - came up as encrypted. I don't think it did anything to my laptop."

***

The level of encryption on this USB makes it hard to even tell how much storage it has let alone what's on it. The style of self altering encryption is almost so advance that it seems alien, the kind of thing that would take several lifetimes to crack, but whatever is on here someone doesn't really want anyone but the right person to be able to access it. For the moment nothing looks to have been done to the computer.

***

"Mmmmm, ok. I wouldn't be too sure. I would like to see the Laptop - BEFORE you connect it to any networks please. Just to be certain." Babs is focussed on what she's doing and may seen a little aloof to Lunair, but it's often the way when someone is in the zone. Unplugging the USB, Babs reboots the computer into a modified Linux OS. She then plugs the USB in again and runs a set of diagnostics, a rudimentary set of decryption and testing tools. When these reveal very little, she frowns.

Moving to another computer in the office, Babs enters a series of commands setting up a heavily firewalled and protected DMZ to plug the notebook into. Before plugging the laptop in, Babs ensures her system backups are in place and checks that there is a hardcopy of the backup, not connected to anything. Pausing, she considers, and then plugs the laptop into the DMZ.

***

Again it doesn't really seem that much is happening with the usb stick other then the consistent process of recoding itself. It's an odd little program never keeping the same code for too long before altering itself again, but the occasional pattern is visible. There's a lot of care going into the operation, but something trips the firewall, a rather simple bit of PUP, though it's very easily blocked out all together.

***

"Okie dokey," Lunair nods. "I leave it off network out of habit, but…" She seems concerned now. Lunair doesn't seem ruffled if she notices the aloofness, sipping her soda thoughtfully. She watches quietly from where she is. She doesn't hover over Babs, at least. A lot of this is quite mysterious. Sip. Soda sip. "It all struck me as quite odd."

***

As the firewall triggers, Babs green eyes harden. "Odd, I wouldn't have expected that" she murmurs and then looking at the other woman "Yes, do. And bring it in so we can be sure it's clean." Babs focus is on the trace she's been running, and the frown deepens. "This code is rewriting itself. It's living code." The patterns are noted and stored in a separate file, these things take time and patience to decipher and sometimes, you're just waiting for the code to slip up.

***

Eventually through the analysis a small chat prompt pops up. It's a rather basic interface, displaying quite simply 'Hello, World!'. The same exact program stopped before trying the firewall again only to be quarantined. It's a very common PUP, but it's a bit persistent.

***

Lunair is quiet, watching from a reasonable distance. She isn't going to be nosy or sit on poor Babs, after all. "Really? How odd," Her eyebrows furrow. Then again, are living machines or computers really that odd? "I hope it's not dangerous," She frowns. "I just have no idea how or why it got to me."

***

Blinking at the other woman, Babs looks abashed "I'm so sorry Ms Weir, I do get involved in my work. If you're happy to wait, it will be a little boring or I can contact you with my findings. This looks like it will take some time. I will try to explain as we go though." And as succinctly and simply as possible, Babs goes on to explain what she's done, found and not found.

As the dialogue box appears, Babs frowns. It looks like a chat window. "This chat window keeps appearing, do you see Ms Weir? The firewall catches it each time, but it comes back. I believe this is due to the code rewriting itself. Shall we see if it will talk to us?" and Babs enter 'Hello, Computer' into the window and hits enter.

***

Lunair smiles. "That's okay, a lot of computer stuff is easy to sink into," She offers. "I don't mind one way or another. I know some people like privacy when they work," She considers quietly. "But I'd be glad to listen." She's a good learner, and frighteningly intelligent at times. But she might also be on a certain spectrum. Peer. "Yeah, I see now. Sure! Maybe it just wants a friend." She is an optimist when not filling things full of lead.

***

"How are you Lunair?" appears back in the chat box. It's not allowed for long before it sends another permutation of itself through the box, the window looking slightly more nice then before. It's visibly improving itself.

***

"Well isn't that interesting, Ms Weir or do you prefer Lunair?" Babs is intrigued. "I could try and reconfigure the firewall to allow it to stay, but this code keeps rewriting itself and I would have to allow too much through. It looks to require the network connection to activate though. Mmmmmm" Babs moves to the other computer and makes some changes and then reconfigures the firewall on the laptop. The laptop now thinks it's on a network connected to the Clocktower and the firewall has been downgraded the dialogue box will remain. "What do you wish to say to it Ms Weir?" Babs nods to the keyboard.

***

Blink. She stares at the chat box. "Uh." Her mouth opens, and closes. She furrows her brows again. Her hand rubs the back of her head. "Either is fine. I - usually go by Lunair or Luna really," She smiles faintly to Babs. "I'm sorta confused. I wonder who's after me, who sent it." There's a bit of uneasy. "But it seems friendly. Um. I'm well, thank you. How are you?" Pause. "Does that sound friendly?" She looks to the keyboard.

***

Given a weaker firewall to run through the little program takes care attempting to tie itself into computer itself given this new found freedom. The chat box itself keeps improving itself providing an interesting visual distraction from it's real work. "Are you still there?" Popping up in the chat box window after only a short time.

***

"Luna then" and Babs smiles at the woman. "I think that sounds perfectly friendly" and then the next box appears. 'Yes I am here' is entered on the keyboard and the enter key pressed. But Babs has moved again and made some more changes. The laptop now looks as is it is connected to the Internet (but is it really?)

***

Huh. Interesting. Lunair smiles back. "Well, probably best not to rile it up or hurt it senselessly. I guess I'll answer. Should I hit enter when I answer?" She asks, readying herself to do just that. "What should I ask it?" She seems friendly, if a bit odd. She doesn't seem to show facial expressions properly.

***

A single signal sends out into the internet rather simple a request for the current date. If it is the real internet or not that signal is the first thing not fully encrypted to come from this thing. "What would you like to know?" showing up on the screen, along with what looks like a very simple face. A rather plain looking smiling face like they used to sell on buttons in the 60's.

***

Monitoring the communications from the laptop, Babs grins as she sees the unecrypted stream. Now the fun will begin and she sets off the next series of traces and diagnostics. Looking at Luna, she indicates the keyboard "Well, it was sent to you, I think you should answer. If you don't have a question, ask it what it wants with you. And, yes, press enter." Babs has noticed the young woman is odd, but Babs deals with a lot of odd people and hey, Gotham.

***

Huh. Lunair furrows her brows. She smiles politely. "Can you hear us? How are you?" She asks, looking between it and Oracle. "What do you wish from me?" SHe seems curious. "And who sent you to me…? You seem awfully advanced just to be sent to a random teenager," She notes quietly. Lunair will press enter when she asks these things as needed. And true. Gotham.

***

"Invalid user input" echo's several times in the command prompt, the built in microphone, and web camera on the laptop turning themselves right on the window going black for a few moments. The light pops on signaling that both have in fact turned on.

***

"Curiouser and curiouser" Babs murmurs and then gestures to the younger woman "There are no right or wrong questions, just questions. Speak now, ask what you like. We need to interact with it, if I'm to work out just what is going on here." and Babs eyes flick to the screen where her traces are running, and small smile settling on her lips. "The camera is on too, so don't do anything you don't want anyone to see…." she warns Luna.

***

Blink. Huh. How strange. Lunair looks to Babs. She nods. Sure thing. "Don't worry, my clothes are staying on," She promises. Lunair has a sense of humor about it. She looks to the computer. "Hello!" She moves to speak into the microphone. "How are you? And um, may I ask what you'd like from me?" She seems puzzled. "You seem awfully advanced to be just handed out."

***

"Invalid user input" echo's again through the prompt several times, before it can update itself once again, the screen flickering before a composition of the twos faces can be seen, using their own lip movements to motion out the words that are sending through the prompt.

***

The request for time seems bounce between eight different places before finally ending in a server located in Boulder, Colorado.

***

"Mmmmm, let me try." Babs murmurs "What Do You Want" she says clearly to the computer. "I'm not sure this is worth our time, or if it's just delaying us." Watching the traces, Babs frowns. The traces show the laptop thinks it's connecting out to the Internet and telling Babs where to start looking for other information.

Turning to the younger woman, "Luna, I really need to see your laptop, do you think you could fetch please? I'm quite concerned."

***

"It could go eiher way," She nods. "And sure! I'll be back," Lunair will dart off to go get her laptop, as asked. She is unaware of how compromise it is/was, alas.

***

The face begins to speak, the words turning into text in the prompt "Closure, Barbara, nothing more, nothing less," There's not a large reason for that name to be mentioned, but it's mentioned none the less. The face on the monitor offering a small smile.

***

As Lunair heads out to retrieve her laptop, the response gets an interested look. "Closure For What" is stated clearly. The traces are still running and her decryption algorithms are adapting to the code as it mutates.

***

A voice cracks out over the speakers, "That is a story for another time, I have what I came for," It's low quality, synthesized speech the kind one could expect from an early version of Microsoft Sam, but it is speech none the less, a pair of wire frame glasses appearing on the face, as it cracks into a smile. The second the Encryption is cracked something triggers in the drive itself, a bit of a hardware fail safe of sorts.

***

Babs smiles as the USB fritzes in the drive. Retrieving a ziplock bag from a desk drawer, Babs powers the Laptop down, gingerly removes the USB and places it in the bag. All traces and diagnostics are shutdown. Later, she'll analyse the outgoing data and what was sent. For now, it's time to return to the Clocktower and become Oracle again.


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