something.—
This was the kind of building that was usually billed as 'flexible office space', which meant that most of the internal walls were built quick and cheap and designed to be easy to take down when the next client moved in. There wasn't much to this one but a couple of layers of plaster and a soundproof plastic panel in a metal frame, all of which cracked at the first impact. A couple of kicks finished the job and left a hole big enough to squirm through.
“ Oh,” Delphi said, disappointed. “I thought you were going to do something clever [55] .”
— [55] A delusion many of us have cherished at one time or another.—
“ Usually simple is better than clever.” I peered through the hole. “I thought you said there were only a couple of workstations in here.”
“ There are. Or were, the last time I was in here.”
“I think that may no longer be the case.” I ducked my head and pushed through, scraping some plaster dust into my hair. “Take a look.”
Delphi followed me into a dark room about the size of Falmer's office next door. The workstations and fancy monitors she had mentioned were still there, shoved out of the way near the door, but the rest of the room was full of computers.
They stood in rows, not the organized racks of Delphi's machine room downstairs but just squeezed in wherever there was space, perched one on top of the other or lying sideways in stacks. Each one seemed to be different, but most of them looked old, as though whoever had set the place up had grabbed whatever cheap hardware he could get his hands on and to ssed it all together in a heap.
A rat's-nest of cords ran through the gaps to the center of the room, where two-dozen power strips were daisy-chained in a circle and a small stack of blue-and-black network hardware sprouted a monstrous spaghetti tangle of ethernet cables. The air was hot, as though we'd stepped under a blow dryer, and smelled slightly of scorched metal. The click-click-whirr sound of hard drives seeking was a constant susurrus, underlying the buzz of dozens of fans.
I had an urge to cover Delphi's eyes, as though we'd walked in on some scene of gruesome torture. Just the thought of trying to keep a pile like this running made my palms itch.
“ How could he have kept this secret?” she said, stepping clear of the hole. The temperature difference created a steady inflow of fresh, cooler air, for which I was grateful. “Wouldn't it show up somewhere?”
“ He must have a separate power line for it,” I said. “And it's not connected to the outside, or to your network. At least, it isn't supposed to be. Is there a light switch?”
She found one beside the door. The fluorescent lights clicked on, their pedestrian glare taking a lot of the eerie weirdness out of the scene. It looked like a supply closet, albeit one where all the machines were powered on. I started poking around along the outer wall, looking behind the whirring computers.
“ What are you looking for?” Delphi said, following me curiously.
“A bypass.” I bent over and pushed a stack of mini-towers gently aside. “Gotcha.”
Delphi knelt beside me. With one finger I lifted part of the ethernet tangle. Attached to one of the off-white cables was a long, thin strand of something that resembled translucent Silly Putty, or snot. I could see where it fed into the network cable, a small bare patch in the insulation. The end of the strand snaked into a small hole in the plaster wall and out of sight.
“ Ew.” Delphi looked at it, fascinated. “What is that stuff?”
“ Ectoplasm.”
“ Is it dangerous to touch?”
“ No, but don't break it. Not yet, anyway.”
She put a finger on the springy strand and tested its strength. “What's it for?”
“ It's functioning as a kind of crude network link.” I tapped the wall. “Somewhere in there is another cable that's plugged into your primary network.”
“ You're not serious. This goop is network cable?”
“ For
This was the kind of building that was usually billed as 'flexible office space', which meant that most of the internal walls were built quick and cheap and designed to be easy to take down when the next client moved in. There wasn't much to this one but a couple of layers of plaster and a soundproof plastic panel in a metal frame, all of which cracked at the first impact. A couple of kicks finished the job and left a hole big enough to squirm through.
“ Oh,” Delphi said, disappointed. “I thought you were going to do something clever [55] .”
— [55] A delusion many of us have cherished at one time or another.—
“ Usually simple is better than clever.” I peered through the hole. “I thought you said there were only a couple of workstations in here.”
“ There are. Or were, the last time I was in here.”
“I think that may no longer be the case.” I ducked my head and pushed through, scraping some plaster dust into my hair. “Take a look.”
Delphi followed me into a dark room about the size of Falmer's office next door. The workstations and fancy monitors she had mentioned were still there, shoved out of the way near the door, but the rest of the room was full of computers.
They stood in rows, not the organized racks of Delphi's machine room downstairs but just squeezed in wherever there was space, perched one on top of the other or lying sideways in stacks. Each one seemed to be different, but most of them looked old, as though whoever had set the place up had grabbed whatever cheap hardware he could get his hands on and to ssed it all together in a heap.
A rat's-nest of cords ran through the gaps to the center of the room, where two-dozen power strips were daisy-chained in a circle and a small stack of blue-and-black network hardware sprouted a monstrous spaghetti tangle of ethernet cables. The air was hot, as though we'd stepped under a blow dryer, and smelled slightly of scorched metal. The click-click-whirr sound of hard drives seeking was a constant susurrus, underlying the buzz of dozens of fans.
I had an urge to cover Delphi's eyes, as though we'd walked in on some scene of gruesome torture. Just the thought of trying to keep a pile like this running made my palms itch.
“ How could he have kept this secret?” she said, stepping clear of the hole. The temperature difference created a steady inflow of fresh, cooler air, for which I was grateful. “Wouldn't it show up somewhere?”
“ He must have a separate power line for it,” I said. “And it's not connected to the outside, or to your network. At least, it isn't supposed to be. Is there a light switch?”
She found one beside the door. The fluorescent lights clicked on, their pedestrian glare taking a lot of the eerie weirdness out of the scene. It looked like a supply closet, albeit one where all the machines were powered on. I started poking around along the outer wall, looking behind the whirring computers.
“ What are you looking for?” Delphi said, following me curiously.
“A bypass.” I bent over and pushed a stack of mini-towers gently aside. “Gotcha.”
Delphi knelt beside me. With one finger I lifted part of the ethernet tangle. Attached to one of the off-white cables was a long, thin strand of something that resembled translucent Silly Putty, or snot. I could see where it fed into the network cable, a small bare patch in the insulation. The end of the strand snaked into a small hole in the plaster wall and out of sight.
“ Ew.” Delphi looked at it, fascinated. “What is that stuff?”
“ Ectoplasm.”
“ Is it dangerous to touch?”
“ No, but don't break it. Not yet, anyway.”
She put a finger on the springy strand and tested its strength. “What's it for?”
“ It's functioning as a kind of crude network link.” I tapped the wall. “Somewhere in there is another cable that's plugged into your primary network.”
“ You're not serious. This goop is network cable?”
“ For
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