opened her mouth to object, but LB raised her hand.
‘I never said you were, Redfort, I said there was a chance that you had brought this whole craziness to our door, but I concede that’s unlikely. There’s no evidence for it.’
Well, that was a relief.
Though what followed was not.
‘You, like every other agent in Spectrum 8, will be taken off duty. Eight is effectively closed to all lower-level agents. For all but vital access to our departments, permission must be given by a senior agent. My feeling was that your training should also be suspended until we have this security mess under control.
‘However,’ she paused and sighed, like what she was about to say was a great effort to her, ‘Hitch has persuaded HQ that it might be wise to keep up the survival skills. He seems to think you need all the protection you can get, and though you are no longer a functioning field agent or coding agent, after much consideration, I am persuaded he is right. We have a duty of care and I have to concede that it is our responsibility to protect you. As such, you will remain in Spectrum as a trainee agent. Under our careful supervision.’
Ruby tried to smile. ‘That’s good to know,’ she said.
A month ago, she’d have felt that LB’s office was the safest place on this earth. Now she couldn’t help feeling she was a fly, about to be swatted.
Problem was, she had no idea who was holding the swatter.
RUBY WAS JUST TRYING to figure out where Hitch might have got to when she spotted a note on the table in the waiting area.
Meet me in Froghorn’s coding room – he will be expecting you.
She was surprised that he had arranged for them to meet there, and it was odd that Froghorn had agreed to it – with the exception of Blacker, Froghorn generally made it clear that no one was welcome in his coding room. Seeing him so soon after she had stepped back into Spectrum was an unpalatable idea, but then she remembered Clancy’s words – ‘talk to Froghorn, I bet you anything he’ll tell you whatever you wanna know, just to make you feel small.’ It was true, Froghorn couldn’t resist bragging about all the secrets he knew, and let’s face it, she thought, he loves nothing better than to drone on about the late great Bradley Baker.
All I gotta do is get him talking, that’s not so difficult.
Knowledge was her only weapon, the only superpower she really had. And if she was going to find out the truth about how Spectrum’s most revered agent met his end then Froghorn was her only option.
The door to his coding room was unlocked, so she was puzzled when she discovered it empty of people. Miles Froghorn was usually very careful about security. Ruby took the opportunity to have a snoop around and she found a lot of interesting things.
There were numerous files stacked neatly on tables, and code books marked with post-its and bookmarks, and notes carefully written in ink. There were several books on data transmission, particularly error-correcting codes that allowed computers to know whether there were mistakes in information they received. It was a subject that fascinated Ruby.
She flipped open a book.
Parity bits are one of the simplest systems for ensuring error-free transmission of binary data. Note though that as they indicate only whether the information contains an even or odd number of 1s or 0s, they are vulnerable to bits in the chain being swapped rather than lost, which is something they cannot …
She stopped reading when she heard footsteps coming down the corridor. She moved away from the table and listened, but whoever it was walked right on by. She continued to peruse Froghorn’s papers. There was a whole hand-written list of what must be ideas for locking devices: swipe card, iris lock, thumbprint, keypad, image lock, bolt key, 5 key, pressure key, voice key.
It rather looked like he had been working on some sort of multi-coded security system, because there was a diagram which was basically three squares arranged like an upside-down L, with letters and numbers marked at particular intervals, and to the side of each of the blocks: E1 E2 E3. In the middle of the third square he had written FC1 FC2 FC3. Next to these were six small pieces of coloured paper; each one was labelled with one of the sets of letters on the diagram, E1, E2, E3 etc., and on each paper was written a word or words, some crossed out, some replaced. E1, for example, said: MUSCA. E2: SWAT; E3: TRANSMISSION, F1: THE SPECTRUM. FC2 said: ROTOR MACHINE and then this was crossed out and had been replaced with CHROMATIC. FC3 was just a?
It looked as if he had been trying to figure out the best method of securing each part of a building, or series of rooms.
There was a beep on Ruby’s watch and she very nearly jumped out of her skin. A YELLOW FLY, meaning ATTENTION! A message flashed across the screen.
HUGE MISTAKE, I MEANT TO SAY MEET ME IN FROGHORN’S OFFICE! IF YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE MADE IT INTO HIS CODING ROOM THEN GET OUT!
PS MEETING CANCELLED.
Ruby did as instructed and got out of there quick, just in time as it turned out, because as she speed-walked along the corridor she ran into Froghorn coming the other way.
‘Oh, you’re back,’ he said slowly, drawing the words out as if he’d just found something unpleasant on the underside of his shoe.
‘Hey, Froghorn,’ she said, deliberately ignoring the silent G so the word ‘Frog’ sounded out very clearly. His irritation could not be missed.
‘What a shame, did kiddie camp not work out for you?’
‘Genius Camp, you mean?’ said Ruby. ‘Yes, that was fun, but you know what they say, too much fun can get you bored, so I guess it’s good to run into you.’
‘I thought it was going to be a bad day,’ said Froghorn. ‘Viridian days are always a total drag.’
‘What are you bleating on about – viridian days? Jeepers, Froghorn, maybe you need to leave the building for an hour or two.’
‘I would if there was anyone who could possibly handle my job, but since we lost Lopez we’ve had a tough job recruiting anyone with half a brain.’
‘I’m surprised you didn’t bring up Bradley Baker again, you guys seem to think the sun shone out of him.’
‘The sun did shine out of him,’ said Froghorn. ‘That’s exactly it, he was a sun ray. And even though he’s dead and gone to grey he never was and never will be some pale imitation of an agent, some little girl living a little pastel-pink life.’
‘Boy, Froghorn, that’s a very
