The StarSight Project Read online

  The verification was simple. University professors are notoriously lax with security. Dr. Jerry Lane was the instructor in his Advanced Control Systems class, and he was also a consultant at CryptaGen. Dr. Lane routinely made problem assignments, which had to be downloaded from his personal web-site. The first week of class, Max downloaded not only the first problem set, but also hacked into Professor Jerry Lane’s research files. Max immediately saw that CryptaGen was developing the Internet access software he could use in his plan to steal the information from Tony Shane’s group. It wasn’t there, however, but in a related file containing a technical report to CryptaGen, that Max found the clue to the flaw in the communications software. He used that information to blow Markson away at the Boston meeting. The rest was history.

  Max closed his office door…not completely, so as to raise suspicion, but enough to block out unwanted observation. Silently, he cursed the company office plan, which placed all desk computer systems against an office wall observable from the doorway. Sitting down at the computer, he clicked on his e-mail icon, hoping there were no “urgent” messages that might suck him back in to company business. Finding none, he immediately opened up the experimental version of the SpyraNet software. It was his personal version…which he called “MaxWare”. The screen displayed the hexagonal green and gold CryptaGen logo, surrounded by the familiar GUI “buttons,” allowing the operator to select any one of several intrusive functions which would monitor present and past activities of any user on a network. Other commercial software was available which could accomplish similar functions, but none was able to avoid detection. The SpyraNet package was virtually undetectable by the user. It could simultaneously speed up and “steal” 50 to 80% of a remote microprocessor’s operation for its own purposes, without interrupting the normal flow of business. When finished, the SpyraNet system restored the central processor to its previous capacity, erased all traces of its intrusion, and pulled out.

  This stealth feature was what had intrigued Max, and it was a unique development of the scientists at CryptaGen. For the “MaxWare” version he alone possessed, in true hacker fashion, Max had added the unique capability to launch programs, send messages, and respond to messages from the computer under surveillance, in the name of the unsuspecting surveillance target. Because this could all be done under the stealth umbrella of the SpyraNet package, this kind of hacker maliciousness was also untraceable. And Max was making the most of it.

  Max could have joined CryptaGen much earlier. Markson would have brought him on immediately after the Boston meeting. But Max had needed to lay the groundwork. After the Boston meeting, he had gotten a job with Southwestern Telenet in Albuquerque. With his experience he had been assigned to the installation of high-speed lines for computer Internet access. They couldn’t begin to keep up with the demand, so Max found it easy to get himself assigned to the CryptaGen installations. He was able to install an undocumented line to which he could secretly connect after joining CryptaGen. Essentially untraceable, this would become his portal to the StarSight Project.

  Max accessed his personal address book file, the one containing the names of the group of academics involved in the “StarSight” project. This file was password-protected and encrypted. This was one of many extra precautions he invoked. Because he could not be sure that no one was using SpyraNet to monitor CryptaGen employees, he had partitioned his workstation so that it looked to him like two systems. One half was connected continuously to the CryptaGen network; while the other operated completely independently, and was connected through his secret high-speed digital line to selected external networks. It was like the computer had had a lobotomy, separating the right side of the brain from the left side. One did not know what the other was doing, but the operator could work with either one. To anyone monitoring the CryptaGen network with SpyraNet, it appeared that only one workstation…the business half of his system…was connected in Max’s office. Max felt pretty safe in the pursuit of his illicit activities.

  Max activated his own de-encryption software, stored on a separate floppy disk, and the names of the StarSight participants popped up on the screen:

  Dr. Anthony “Tony” Shane, Daniels University, Rockville, [email protected]

  Dr. Sharon Carson, Eastmont University, Boston, [email protected]

  Dr. Barry Nagle, California Polytechnic University, San Francisco, [email protected]

  He clicked on the Tony Shane block, and immediately the screen display changed to an obvious screen saver design…with random patterns being generated, alternately growing and exploding. Obviously, Shane was not working at his computer at the moment. Absently, Max imagined that Shane was probably giving a lecture right now. He smiled at the thought of how completely unaware Shane was of Max’s surveillance of every intimate detail of his life. Max knew not only who Shane corresponded with, but everything that was communicated. He knew his travel plans, lecture notes, grade lists, and problem assignments. He read the latest version of a research proposal to the National Science Foundation; and he read Shane’s reviews of other scientists’ research proposals. He had a copy of Shane’s latest revised curriculum vitae, as well as a list of to whom he had sent it recently. He read letters of recommendation, and departmental memos. Because he had hacked into several computer systems that conducted business with Shane, Max also knew of his bank and credit card transactions, business activities, and even magazine and newspaper subscriptions. Most importantly, Max knew most details of Shane’s current research and any unclassified communications with the StarSight team.

  Max regretted only that he did not have direct access to the data on those portable disk cartridges, which were labeled with the bright red and white striped indicators of Top Secret data. When not in use, these cartridges were kept locked in a secure vault provided by the DOE (Department of Energy) as part of its research contract with Shane and with Daniels University. Those cartridges were only used with a separate computer system, which was not connected to any external network. Max smiled, though, as he reflected that the Bear had provided other ways of getting those data.

  In short, Max knew everything about Shane’s professional and personal life…at least everything that could be learned from computer records. And Max was good at filling in the blank spaces. For example, he was sure that Shane had had an affair with one of his postdoctoral associates. There was no incriminating memo or e-mail on Shane’s computer, but his computer calendar records revealed a brief but intense period of frequent social engagements with Dr. Sarah Stenstrom, which had abruptly ended about a month ago. Other records indicated Dr. Stenstrom had begun her postdoctoral appointment with Shane about a year ago; she had done her Ph.D. work in Psychology at UCLA, and her doctoral work had been in the field of computerized neural networks. She had chosen to work with Shane because he was renowned for his cutting edge research in artificial intelligence. Max knew that she was making some significant contributions to the StarSight project.

  Yes, Max knew everything about Shane. Or almost everything. Shane had stubbornly refused to confide detailed descriptions of his most recent experiments to computer records. Max was certain this indicated a significant breakthrough, which Shane would only capture in his handwritten classified research notebook; and subsequently transmit verbally to his StarSight colleagues and the CIA at their next meeting. Although StarSight had begun as a long-term project, the priority had been jacked way up since the September 11 attack. Now the team was meeting with the CIA quarterly. Meetings rotated between Washington, DC, and San Francisco. The next one would be held the following week in San Francisco, or more specifically, at a secure site at Lawrence Livermore National Lab in the Livermore Valley about 45 miles southeast of San Francisco. Except for Nagle, who had a home, with a wife and two children, in San Francisco, the principals would all stay at the Fairmont Hotel in the City, and make the trip to Livermore each day by limousine. Their classified documents would be transported from th
eir respective universities to Livermore by special DOE couriers. After the meeting, these couriers would return the classified documents to their respective secure vaults at the respective institutions.

  Max clicked on an icon that looked like a history book, and a new screen popped up with a list of network addresses accessed by Shane over the past 24 hours. Max scanned the list carefully, looking for links to any members of the StarSight team. He also looked for links to any CIA staff involved in oversight of the project. Finally, he looked for any links to the office of Senator Gerald Moorhouse. Moorhouse was the Senior Senator from California, and also chairman of the Senate Sub-Committee on Energy Research, Development, and Regulation. As an influential member, also, of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, he had established a liaison with the CIA and other intelligence-gathering organizations that were vitally interested in classified research conducted at DOE labs. Over the years he had established himself as a powerful supporter of these organizations, as well as a force to be reckoned with when their respective directors were developing programs and budgets. Moorhouse was particularly concerned about the progress of the StarSight project, and had become an unofficial focal point for the coordination of the team’s activities.

  “What’s up, Max.”

  The friendly female greeting from the doorway startled him, but he managed to turn around slowly and simultaneously strike the “alt-K” keyboard combination. Instantly, the computer system switched over to the CryptaGen local network home screen. Max’s secret portal to the outside world was hidden from the sight of Andie Carey’s wide blue eyes peeking solicitously around the now partly open door.

  “Too much,” he replied, as Andie slid the rest of her slender 5 foot seven inch frame through the doorway, revealing that she had chosen today to wear a tight but conservative navy blue skirt, cut just below the knee, and a starched white short-sleeve blouse with an open collar. “If you marketing types would act more like facilitators than roadblocks, we could get some new products out the door,” he fired at her.

  Stepping completely into the office, Andie made herself comfortable in the chair facing Max’s desk. “Alright, Max, don’t get cross with me,” she said as she crossed one leg over the other. “I’m on your side, remember?” Max’s fleeting glance at the flash of thigh exposed by the side slit in her skirt did not go unnoticed, nor was it unsolicited.

  Max leaned back in his chair, and smiled. “OK, Andie, I’ll admit you’re more enlightened than the rest of that crew downstairs, but your colleagues are giving us fits on this SpyraNet package.”

  Max liked Andie, not only because she was attractive and bright, but also because, unlike most of the Marketing group, she had a technical as well as business background. She had majored in chemistry at UNM, but had discovered she could earn more in marketing than in the chem tech jobs she had been able to get. She had convinced the human resources people at Albuquerque’s LaPlaya Food Products Company, for whom she had been working as a lab technician, that she could handle an entry-level marketing position. With her technical background, facile communications skills, and natural business instincts, she had been remarkably successful from the start. She advanced rapidly, and was soon responsible for marketing several of LaPlaya’s new products. When CryptaGen had grown in profits, but not in new products, they sought out Andie, and persuaded her to join the company. She had been there now for a year, and was directing half of CryptaGen’s marketing activities. Unfortunately, Max thought, she had not been given SpyraNet.

  “So, what domy colleagues want from you?” she shot back.

  “Guarantees that SpyraNet won’t tell the user that they’re being bugged,” he replied. “They’re afraid the user will notice a slowing in the response time of their workstation. So, I’ve got to show how transparent SpyraNet will be.”

  Cocking her head sideways and brushing aside the length of straight blonde hair that had fallen over her eye, Andie countered, “Don’t you think these concerns are justifiable?”

  “I’ll tell you what I think. I think they’re looking at a market that they’re not telling us about,” Max shot back. “Do you think a company employee doesn’texpect network managers to probe their systems, and that it will slow them down? Of course they do. It happens every time there’s a virus scan.”

  “What your colleagues arereally interested in is marketing this software to the FBI or DEA or whomever, so they can do theirwiretapping without warrants and without detection,” Max continued. “Ever since their ‘Carnivore’ e-mail surveillance fiasco, the FBI has been sniffing around for a ‘transparent’ product to do their dirty work.”

  He was really getting heated now. Not because of the company’s deception in pursuing this particular market, but because he feared the FBI or CIA would get too close and discover the snooping in whichhe was secretly engaged. He cautioned himself not to appear too irate, lest he give something away. Perhaps he had already said too much.

  After pausing a few seconds, with no response from Andie, Max continued. “Well, I guess it’s inevitable that this kind of package would draw the attention of the Feds. I’m just irritated that Marketing is asking us to characterize the performance, without leveling with us about why.”

  “Maybe it’s better if you don’t know what they plan to do with this product,” she said finally. “That way your nose is clean.” She paused and smiled coyly, her head still tilted, but with the long straight hair sliding again over one eye.

  Max had already thought about it, and his concern was much different than Andie might suspect. Max believed that CryptaGen was getting too thick with at least one of the agencies he was attempting to penetrate himself. He didn’t want them learning about SpyraNet’s capabilities before he could complete his own mission. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “But…just between us…do you know if your Marketing buddies are headed in that direction?”

  Andie leaned back in the chair, pushing her head back, letting her crossed leg swing freely for a moment before answering. Observing her now, Max allowed himself a fleeting thought about pursuing the chemical attraction he had felt between them since being introduced at a company party three months ago. She was single, bright, and articulate. At twenty-seven, she was 10 years younger than Max, but in many ways his intellectual equal. She was not inexperienced, having recently broken up with her live-in boyfriend of five years. And she was knowledgeable regarding restaurants, food, wine and the arts. She would make a most suitable companion for Max, but he knew he had to resist the temptation. Perhaps, when his mission was completed, he could follow up on the strong sensual feelings he experienced in her presence. He couldn’t remember the last time he had allowed himself to enjoy a woman. His mission had been all consuming.

  “I really don’t know, Max,” she said finally. “And that’s the truth.” “But, like you, I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s a natural market, and we would be foolish to ignore it.” She paused a second before continuing, “Does it really bother you? I could find out,” she said softly.

  She let the last statement hang in the cool office air. It was an unexpected moment of intimacy. Max knew that, once accepted, her offer would bring them a step closer to the physical relationship they both wanted. Before replying, he turned his head toward his office window and stared briefly at the Sandia mountain range, a few miles away, rising straight up 5000 feet above the mile-high desert platform that was Albuquerque. The monstrous dark clouds behind the broad horizontal sweep of the range were moving quickly, projecting continuously changing silver and purple images. Absorbing this vision, Max was able to crystallize and dissect the conflicting thoughts whirling through his mind.

  Finally turning back to face her, he replied, “No…thanks, Andie. Let’s both keep our noses clean. Maybe there are some things we don’t want to know.”

  He knew he had made the right choice. For now.

  Chapter 2

  Tony

  So, how many bits of information would be contained
in this data set?” Tony Shane asked, as he turned around to face his graduate class on Information Theory. He had just finished drawing a box around a table of spectral data he had placed on the whiteboard. The group of fifteen students, spread out among the first four rows of the large classroom, adopted an almost identical blank stare. Suddenly realizing he had just spent the past 10 minutes lecturing to the whiteboard without any eye contact with his students, Shane became frustrated with himself. Once again he had let his mind wander in the middle of his lecture. Of course the students were lost.

  Taking a deep breath, and re-focusing on the topic he had supposedly been teaching over the past several minutes, Shane took another tack. His next question was posed while deliberately looking directly into the eyes of each of several students in turn, but not dwelling too long on any one. He wasn’t conscious of applying this technique for re-capturing their attention. It was a completely automatic strategy that had evolved over his nearly 10 years on the faculty at Daniels University. “OK, let’s go back to the basics,” he said. “Can the Boltzmann function be applied to these data?”

  This question got things started, and the subsequent dialogue between professor and students led to the kind of enlightenment that always provided Shane with that glow of self-satisfaction that was the Holy Grail of all good teachers. It was why he knew he could never be in any other profession. He had known, from that first summer working in a graduate research group at Michigan, that the life of a professor at a research university was what he wanted: a position where he could pursue his own personal research program, with a group of 10 or so totally dedicated graduate students and postdoctoral associates. Only at one of the research universities that offered Ph.D. degrees could he achieve this. He made it his goal, finished his doctoral work in 4 years, and was hired directly into a position as Assistant Professor of Computer Science at Daniels.