Alone in the library, Gabriel continued to worry. He wanted to do something, to take a stand, but what could he do? His only contribution to the resistance was a second video, one condemning the aliens for the slaughter in London and calling on all loyal British citizens to join the fight. And how many of them would hear him and die because they’d listened to a Prime Minister skulking in a hole?
But what else could he do?
“There’s a great deal about this we don’t understand,” Linux said. Brigadier Gavin Lightbridge-Stewart — who was, as far as he knew, the senior surviving British military officer — nodded. Computers might have been extremely useful, but he didn’t pretend to understand what went on inside them. “But the alien computer network is actually surprisingly primitive.”
Gavin gave him what he hoped was an encouraging look. Linux — and his friends — hadn’t joined the army in the traditional manner, let alone worked their way through the Combat Infantryman’s Course at Catterick. They’d been computer hackers who’d gotten their kicks by breaking into secure databases, at least until they’d been caught and offered a blunt choice between working for the government or spending a number of years in jail. They did have some sense of social responsibility, yet they had no sense at all of military etiquette. It was sometimes refreshing to chat to them, but not now. The entire country was under enemy occupation.
“It seemed so odd that we were convinced they were screwing with our minds,” Linux continued, cheerfully. “They can travel faster-than-light, their starships are several kilometres long and they clearly have at least some form of antigravity system — their shuttles couldn’t fly without something along those lines. And yet they are oddly primitive in some areas. Their precision weapons aren’t very precise and their computer networks are surprisingly crude.”
Gavin nodded, although he had his own theories about alien precision weapons. From what they could see, the aliens seemed less inclined to worry about accidentally hitting their own troopers as well as enemy positions — and they showed a frightening lack of concern for civilian casualties. If they hadn’t had the political impetus to design smarter and smarter weapons, maybe they simply hadn’t bothered. Besides, the aliens didn’t seem to bother with inventing justifications for their invasion of Earth. They’d come, they’d seen — and they’d invaded.
“They do have wireless networks comparable to our own, but their security technology is several generations behind ours,” Linux continued. Two SAS men had slipped close to a major alien base to establish a passive listening post linked directly to the resistance’s computer geek headquarters. They’d been monitoring alien traffic ever since. “One thing we can confirm is that the aliens are definitely top-down commanders. Orders flow down from the starships or the command base in London and the poor grunts on the ground do as they’re told.”
He grinned. “It took a week to find a way to slip into their networks, but we’re finally starting to pull files out from their systems for examination elsewhere,” he added. “We stumbled across another puzzle almost at once. Our translation software isn’t very good, but theirs seems to be better than ours — even though their computers are less capable. But it isn’t as good as it could be.”
Gavin frowned, considering the puzzle. The aliens hadn’t done much with the civilian population, but one thing they had done was take over a number of computer-related colleges and research labs. If the alien computers were primitive, maybe they were intent on absorbing human technology into their own society. But why were they primitive in the first place? Gavin could accept that they wouldn’t be so concerned with producing precision weapons, yet why didn’t they have superior computers? They certainly should have possessed computers equal to mankind’s best designs.
“One of the programs we pulled out and studied was definitely designed for English,” Linux informed him. “The others, however, aren’t for any recognisable language. You’d think they could speak French or Russian or Chinese, but they don’t seem to have programs for those translations. I assume that they might not bother to outfit a force landing in Britain with such systems, yet it’s an odd oversight…”
“Very odd,” Gavin agreed. It struck him a moment later. “There are other aliens out there!”
“So it would seem,” Linux said. “At least six, unless the translation programs are for other Leatherneck languages. We have different languages on Earth — why shouldn’t they have something comparable on their worlds. Unfortunately, we were unable to locate any files on the other alien races. But we’re still looking. I’m afraid they didn’t bother to design any search engines for their computer networks.”
“Or maybe you haven’t found those yet,” Gavin said. “Tell me something. Can you alter their files? Twist the data they’re gathering on our people? Slip records into the registries…?”
“I don’t think so,” Linux admitted. “I told you the system was crude — well, it’s very crudeness provides some protection from people like me. We can read the files — hell, we’ve managed to download terabytes of data we can study without having to remain linked to their network — but altering them would certainly be noticed. Their core memory systems are ROM — ah, Read Only Memory. We can’t change them without physical access to the system.”
“Which we’re not likely to get,” Gavin agreed. He patted the young man on the back. “Good work.”
“The intelligence staff are working their way through the dump,” Linux added. “They’re finding it slow going — if there is a listing or filing system, it isn’t one that we recognise. It used to be possible to lose files inside computer networks unless one happened to know its precise location. I have a feeling that their superior officers probably have their own files concealed from everyone else. Who knows? Maybe they all gather dirt on their fellows for advancement.”
“I was hoping you’d be able to tell me more about their society,” Gavin admitted. “I don’t suppose you pulled something like Wikipedia out of their database?”
“I don’t think they’d want Wikipedia if they could support it,” Linux said. “Or Google, for that matter. Or any of the other computer programs that put power in the hands of the users, rather than systems administrators and the big corporations…”
“I think they have more problems right now,” Gavin said, dryly. He had a relative who had worked for Google Ireland. The Leathernecks had largely ignored Ireland, apart from bombarding its military bases and destroying the fragile truce between Ireland’s various factions. After the remaining British soldiers had been pulled out, Ireland had degenerated into fighting between different factions, with thousands of refugees trying to make it to Britain. Perhaps the aliens would intervene if they thought there was something in Ireland worth taking. Or maybe they had too many other problems on their hands. “What can we do with the access we have? And can they block us out if they realise that we’ve hacked their systems?”
“I rather doubt they can block us unless they’re willing to cripple their networks,” Linux said. “But if they do have enemies out there, they may have security tricks we haven’t seen ourselves. Maybe their enemies have a cunning plan to hijack their wireless computer networks and render their fleets helpless. And then sexy androids will rule the galaxy.”
He saw Gavin’s face and cleared his throat. “Sorry, anyway… we may be able to piggyback on their network to send messages to our own people,” he added. “And seeing that they all radiate wireless signals, we could probably start tracking their movements. Or… we could rig up a sensor and link it to an IED. When the signals reach the right intensity, they trigger the IED and it explodes in their face. Or…”