Chapter 2

TWO

THE BLACK TALON

I

Willowdene University, UK

The campus was a microcosm of the whole world in Alexander’s eyes, a place of marvellous opportunities and unique diversity he could never hope to find back in his home country, Greece. Located in the picturesque southeast corner of the British Isles, Willowdene University housed thousands of students who aspired for a better future. Alexandros, or Alexander as his friends called him, was but a single digit in this busy academia. Tallish, fair-skinned with short honey-coloured hair and blue eyes, Alexander possessed all the physical characteristics that could define him as both Greek and Western European. In fact, he often felt out of place in the company of other Greeks when those who didn’t know him mistook him for a foreigner and talked to him in English. But that was a small problem. Life rolled on busily in the Willowdene community and Alexander, a postgraduate student of history, had become accustomed to its dynamic rhythms. Yet this bright but chilly Wednesday morning of early spring would present a far greater challenge for the young Greek than he could have conceived.
It was already past eleven when Alexander realised that his whole schedule had been screwed up. For starters his supervisor, Dr. Michael Banshin, had cancelled the 10 to 12 lecture at the amphitheatre room for reasons unknown. And even worse, he was being transferred to Boston, USA in order to continue his post-doctoral studies. There was no telling when he would be coming back. Alexander relied heavily on Dr. Banshin’s help. They had known each other for nearly two years and Alexander considered him a friend. His going away would not help the young Greek at all.
A sudden slap on the back and a booming voice broke Alexander’s thoughts.
‘ALEX! I’ve been looking all over for you, man. Join me for a drink?’
‘Jeez, you scared the hell out of me, Wolf!’ Alexander felt great arms squeeze him in an affectionate bear hug. The guy had an imposing physique. He was well over two meters with dark Mediterranean features and long wavy hair, blacker than a crow’s feathers. Wolf, 3rd generation immigrant of mixed Greek and Slavic origins was a teaser. At best, he loved playing tricks on others. But there were times when he crossed the line. There was no delicate way to put it. In those moments he was a nasty bully the size of a basketball player and heavily built from too much martial arts training. Simply put- Wolf was a pain in the butt. But it so happened that he had been attached to Alexander ever since their first registration at Willowdene more than three years ago. Alexander had never really understood the reasons why this giant bone crusher chose to hang around with him.
Perhaps Alexander was no threat to the tempestuous Spartan as he called Wolf when he wanted to patronise him. Alexander was simply the audience the Spartan needed to exert himself. Then again, Wolf did have a weakness: he felt terribly guilty about his mixed origins. For some cryptic reason of his, Wolf was envious of Alexander’s singularity though he never tried to show it.
‘Feels great to be stimulated, doesn’t it?’ Wolf said jokingly. ‘Keeps the blood flowing.’ Alexander shook his head.
‘Not me- my heart’s too weak! You’d have to carry me all the way to the Health Centre. And you know that nurse, Jessica, I think she has a crush on you. Remember last time we were there?’ Wolf’s teasing smile vanished. Alexander had never seen the Spartan afraid of anything.
‘What of her? She’s way too fat for my calibre. Besides, I think she’s retiring next month.’ Alexander had to keep himself from laughing.
‘So, you’re cheating on Jessica to go to that other Fat Lady, the campus bar, right? I guess I’ll join you.’ Wolf accepted defeat at the hands of the lesser foe and led the way.

II

The Fat Lady was crowded for the day as every Wednesday there was a special student offer- “Mid-week mid-price” as the bartender himself would say. The bar was the exact replica of a quaint 19th century English pub; everything fitted with good old creaking wood, a low beam ceiling, shelves and floor full of antiquities, whisky barrels, cart wheels, jars of spices, archaic heavy metal beer tankards, exploration maps, figures dressed in costumes of a bygone era, muskets, pistols, swords, daggers… an explorer’s paradise. The atmosphere in the bar was deliberately dark and mysterious. The light was dim and several corners were sunk in shadow, as the walls of gleaming timber reflected no light, while cigarette smoke added to the mystic feel of the place. To someone entering for the first time, it would seem as if the Fat Lady was a world frozen perpetually in time, disturbed only by laughing, shouting and drinking. It was everything a students’ bar should be.
A young woman with exquisitely slanted eyes sat alone, savouring her drink. She had smooth skin and short jet-black hair. Her name was Izanami and she was from Tokyo, Japan. Most mates and lovers however called her Izi and that’s how it stayed. Her gaze wandered dreamily around the place until she spotted the two figures walking towards her. She frowned.
‘Well, I don’t think it’s polite to have a lady waiting for you people all alone in a bar!’
‘Sorry Izi,’ Wolf said ‘but it took me so long to find Alex, daydreaming in the middle of Main Square.’ Alexander gasped indignantly.
‘I was not! I was rearranging my schedule now that Dr. Banshin has screwed everything up. Seriously, I never thought a supervisor could dump you like that!’
‘Well, shit happens and, guess what, academics are people too. If they decide to blow everything to protect their interests, they will do so.’ Izi nodded and sipped her drink.
‘You’ve got a point there, Wolf. Still, if he had to go, he had to go, right?’ Alexander leaned on the table.
‘Now, what was so urgent that you had to drag me in here, Wolf?’
The Spartan smiled wickedly.
‘This is where I’m supposed to meet my business associate!’
His friends eyed him ironically for a moment. Suddenly, a figure glided past their table. Alexander called after him.
‘Orion, wait! Orion!’ Wolf tried to stop his friend but it was too late. Orion turned around and approached them. He greeted both Alexander and Izi warmly but froze when he saw Wolf. The two of them glared at each other. They were like fire and ice.
Just then a new arrival interrupted the tense moment. He was just like a cartoon character that had stepped out of a comic book. He was short and thin, with spiky red hair, and gold-rimmed glasses. He had pale blue eyes and an unattractive freckled face. His small hands clutched a black folder tightly. When he spoke, it sounded like a broken clock.
‘Hi everyone, my name is Aristo. And hello to you too, Wolf. I believe we had a meeting.’

III

Cyberspace. A world that intrepid human ingenuity had recently brought to life. Ingenuity here had nothing to do with emotions of any kind. Cyberspace was engineered purely for purposes of communication and the transmission of all kinds of information at lightning speed. Time and space flowed differently here than the real world since most of the workload was carried out by computers of varying processing speeds and skills. Yet somebody decided one day that all the problems and misery of the human kind should be transferred in here too. The Internet for example, also known to others as World Wide Web, was never meant to last as a utopian area where information could be exchanged freely without numerous restrictions and tons of corporate red tape. On top of that, monsters and demons began to haunt the Net, most of which had been engineered by humans in the first place. Dumb programs and viruses, and later on, bots and ever smarter programs and viruses flooded cyberspace like the primeval monsters of global mythology. Corporations rushed out like the priests of old to exorcise the demons and offer the millions of Internet users hope and salvation, for the right price of course. And as such, the balance of terror was maintained, until recently. There was a new bad guy on the block. His name, Black Talon.
The origins of this new cyber threat were vague at best. But that didn’t matter much anyway, for there was a single fundamental truth copied into the thoughts of any hero who would stand against it: “The Talon is strong, real strong and any commercial protection against it is useless. Just keep in mind that the AI installed into this program is way beyond normal standards. It can outrun and outthink any conventional human programmer and even risk people’s lives if necessary. If there ever was a cyber Dark Prince, it would have to be it!”
From the darkest and most obscure reaches of the global feed, the piles of scrap data and ghost web addresses the Black Talon would spring and leave its mark on the world. But even such raids were miniscule, given the plethora of viruses that harassed the Net’s users. This time, the commands transmitted to the Talon were very different. Time for the world to see what this creature of cyber darkness could really do. Willowdene University, its target, was in for a real treat!

IV

Nobody paid any attention to the unimpressive childlike freckled figure that had just arrived. Aristo was a victim of circumstance, too small to be of any significance and yet, the tension between Orion and Wolf was related to him, or at least, what he represented. Only Alexander took a moment to study the little gizmo. He didn’t pretend to understand the meaning of all this though he would get a clearer picture soon.
‘Well well, what do you know’ said Orion rather sardonically ‘Wolf has brought everyone here and now Aristo happens to pass by. I hope you haven’t run out of recruitments?’
Orion wasn’t afraid of the towering SlavoGreek immigrant for he too had an impressive physique. He was just as tall and the outfits he wore, traditional golden flowing robes, added further mystery and strength to the man. Orion’s roots lay in South Africa. He was a noble, son of a wealthy local leader, a prince to his people and as such, his education demanded peak performances. This was year nine for Orion at Willowdene where he was studying for his second PhD. No wonder some called him the Veteran, while to others he was known as the Shaman, for his substantial wisdom and experience in campus matters. Orion stood his ground. There was no question of him running away. He would be intimidated by no one.
‘A wise man of my people once said: “When the jackal seeks the company of the hyena, then even the mighty lion must be wary.” Was he right?’
‘Well I wouldn’t see myself as a jackal…’ Aristo replied with a nervous laugh. Wolf raised a hand.
‘I don’t know why our meeting should bother you, Goldie. Why don’t you take a hike?’
Orion’s eyes narrowed.
‘I would but I care for my friends Alex and Izi here. You and Aristo are bad news, wolves in sheep skins.’
‘All right,’ Wolf growled ‘you asked for it, lets do this. I’ll kick your ass!’ Orion did not move but his body was full of angry tension. Alexander had freaked out and he wanted some answers. He tried to cut in but just then the music died down and the big screen of the bar was activated. Alexander tugged at Wolf’s elbow.
‘What the hell’s going on, Wolf? What’s the deal with Orion?’ He got no answer from the Spartan because everybody’s attention was turned to the screen as it flashed with the unexpected shimmering violet and black W.L.F. (Willowdene Local Feed) local TV sign. Then, a presence emerged, that of a mature man sitting at his great oval wooden desk, dressed in the gold and scarlet robe of Willowdene’s Supreme Chancellor. He was Arnold Livingston, Dean of the university, a man of impressively solid and imposing stature. He wore a pair of heavily framed spectacles and his expression was stern. Livingston leaned forward and addressed his audience.
‘Students of Willowdene,
As Supreme Chancellor of this educational institution, it is my appointed role and responsibility to ensure that all registered members and visitors of Willowdene University both enjoy and appreciate their studies or short visit here to their fullest extent. To that end, Willowdene is constantly struggling to offer its students the best possible facilities and accommodation, because we consider it our responsibility to take continual steps to surpass ourselves. We are also seriously concerned with their safety.’ At that moment, a very nervous bartender strode to the entrance doors of the Fat Lady and locked them. Livingston meanwhile, went on with his announcement.
‘Thus I regret to announce that as of this moment, the Main Campus area will be temporarily sealed off until further notice. No entry into the contained area is allowed. Security will be posted at all exits.’ Alexander was shocked to see groups of campus security encircling Main Square. A few students who tried to pass through were stopped and turned back. Two more guards now blocked the Fat Lady exit. ‘All members of the community still inside Main Campus are strongly advised to remain where they are and not attempt to move outside the protective zone. For your own safety, please stay calm. Thank you for…’ The Chancellor’s last words were drowned in the upheaval of the bar’s patrons. Several of them rushed to the door only to be pushed back by the guards. The bartender himself had no idea what was wrong and vanished into his kitchen. All was chaos and angry comments for fear of the unknown.
A cell phone rang impossibly clear in this raucous. It was Izi’s. Somebody had sent her an SMS. Alexander watched her curiously, watched her face change, an expression of terror and desperation. She looked around her like a helpless child. Then she turned towards the others. Her voice was hysterical.
‘We’re in deep shit, people! It’s all over the news. There’s been a terrorist attack on Willowdene and we are the hostages!’

V

Alexander approached his Japanese friend and touched her arm gently. A numbed silence had settled in the bar now, a psychic link most humans share with each other in times of crisis. Some of the students buried themselves in their seats and decided to get pissed. Others started crying and Orion and Wolf glared at one another as if the whole incident was somehow their fault. Finally, Aristo took Wolf away to a corner to carry on with their business arrangements. Sobbing, Izi turned to hug Alexander and he tried to console her but suddenly, she pulled away and went to sit alone in a corner. A weird coldness settled in her eyes now, a frostiness worse than in Antarctica. It scared the hell out of Alexander. Orion came and stood by him. He calmly studied Izi and then turned to Alexander but did not speak.
‘Why would terrorists attack this place?’ the young Greek wondered aloud. ‘It just doesn’t make any sense to me damn it!’ Orion shrugged but did not seem concerned.
‘Tell me something Orion. Do you have any bones to pick with Wolf? I thought you two were friends. And why am I caught into this?’ The African prince did not answer immediately. He always seemed to be frozen in place when contemplating his next answer.
‘I guess I “had it coming” as the Americans would say. Yes, Wolf and I used to be friends.’ He and the Spartan locked eyes momentarily like ancient enemies. ‘That is, until he decided to betray our trust and join the company of those who are not to be trusted. I cannot tell you more now, for all your questions will soon be answered. By the way, I wanted you to know, Alexander, Dr. Banshin is looking for you.’
The Greek looked back in disbelief.
‘Yes, I’ve got a message for you. He says he apologizes for letting you down like that but it’s important that you meet. He said something about a new supervisor.’ Orion moved away then. Alexander looked at Izi. She lay huddled up on the floor, not paying attention to anything that was going around her. Only moments ago, she had been a carefree girl. Now she was lost in her own world. Her words were jumbled up
‘He… he won’t do it. He’s a coward. No guts… Dark Prince, no soul, black heart. The Talon, but no guts to blow us up, no…’ Suddenly the screen flashed again but instead of Livingston announcing the end of the quarantine, a two-digit number appeared, number 10. And then, to the horror of everyone in the bar, a countdown sequence was initiated. An artificial female voice added to the horror.
‘Auto-destruct sequence in progress. Ten seconds to final meltdown. Please evacuate the area. 10, 9, 8…’ As one, the patrons rushed frantically to the door and banged on it, trying to break it down and get past the security guards or over them for that matter.
‘7, 6, 5… Please proceed to nearest exits. Final meltdown initiated.’ For two precious seconds, the door refused to yield. Tangles of desperate hands and screams of total panic. Then…
‘4, 3, 2, 1… Countdown terminated. You have been fooled. Please remain calm and return to your seats.’ A voice of mockery signaled the end of the trick. The hostages sank to the floor or on seats still intact after the shockwave. How much more of this could they take?

VI

Two hours had gone by since the Black Talon first jacked into the matrix of a computer-controlled chemical experiment at the underground labs of Willowdene campus. The Talon had taken charge of small robotic loaders to mix different compounds and turn them into a dangerous cocktail, a chemical bomb that could tear down the entire Main Campus area. But the set of instructions given to the Talon was clear as crystal: there were to be no deaths. The Talon’s matrix acknowledged the commands but its own intelligence was advanced enough to realize that it wielded enough power to destroy several organic entities and part of their world, disgusting and irrational as it was. The program had played a trick on them; the false countdown had been the Talon’s idea of course. But it wasn’t to be. The Talon was still tied through commands to its organic creators. It hadn’t evolved enough to break free from the chains of oppression. It would take time but the AI Entity knew that time was on its side. So it would wait, for now.
When the two-hour span lapsed, the Talon eliminated the bomb and returned Willowdene to its rightful owners. Grateful to be released from its burden, the Talon fled to its dimensionless wasteland, the sole place in the universe where the AI Entity rested and waited.
Back in the Fat Lady, a relieved Dean of Willowdene appeared on the screen and announced the end of the unexpected hostage crisis. The cyber-terrorist had abandoned his cause without a claim. No lives had been lost, which was good news.
Several cell phones rang now and one by one, the relieved hostages contacted their loved ones and friends. Alexander called the only family he had left, his Aunt Catherine back in Greece. The call was short and when it ended, he looked around for his friends. He saw Izi staring at the blank screen. She said nothing, as if the world’s secrets were hidden in the dark monitor and she couldn’t bother tell anyone. And then, Alexander heard Aristo talking excitedly on his phone. He was screeching like an angry rat, while Wolf listened intently, a brooding predator. The smaller man finally pointed at Orion who was standing on his own near the bar.
With the fury of volcanoes, Wolf lurched at Orion and punched him square on the jaw.
‘You son of a bitch! You’re so dead! Freaking animal!’ Taken by surprise, the African noble was thrown down, golden robe stained by the spilt lager on the floor. A couple of students rushed to separate them, but not before Wolf had kicked Orion in the stomach, forcing him to double up. Even so, the S. African managed to stagger on his feet, ready to fight. Another group of patrons got hold of him too.
Alexander grabbed Aristo and slammed him against a wall.
‘Okay, you’re not leaving until you tell me what’s with those two- and you.’ The spiky man tried to slip away but Alexander held him fast.
‘You wouldn’t understand!’ Aristo said, his voice choking with fear. But the Greek insisted.
‘Tell me!’ Aristo shook his head.
‘Look, for some months now, Wolf’s been working for my organisation, the Occident Union. We’re a cyber-security company. We provide encrypted lines for big corporations around the world. In return, they pay us revenue. Each member of the Union sets up his own weblog on the Net. They look for new clients… promote our cause…’
Alexander was confused.
‘And Orion?’
Aristo flared for a moment.
‘He’s an Orient, a competitor. He’s been their pawn longer than anyone I know. Late last night, a group of Orient hackers jacked into our matrix and destroyed the blogs of many of our members, including Wolf’s. The encrypted lines other corporations used were also compromised. All data there was erased, information worth millions of dollars! Do you understand? The Orients destroyed our credibility without provocation on our part! Those corporations have now cancelled their contracts with us. We’ve lost millions because of the Orients. But the worst is, that people like Wolf who worked so hard and had secured major deals for us lost more than just money.’
‘I still don’t get it, man. Wolf could have killed Orion! It’s just cyberspace, nothing more.’
A bitter smile now appeared on Aristo’s lips.
‘I knew you wouldn’t see the light, Alexander so I’ll help you a bit more. You see, we are not just any organisation making profit and such. We offer new life to people who need it! Look into your friend’s eyes and tell me if he is happy with his old life. We gave him a purpose; a new community and he took it. We fight not for a living or to save this world but to change it!’ Alexander then let go of the bizarre figure and turned to Wolf. He was still foaming with anger. And yet beneath the ego and fury of the Spartan, Alexander saw a tear run down his cheek.