“Run me through it again,” she says once she’s finished tying back her hair. “The three benchmarks we’re failing.”
“Data isolation under attack simulation, real-time encryption verification, and cross-system authentication protocols.” I pull up the relevant screens. “The first two are related—if we can solve the isolation problem, the encryption verification should fall into place. The authentication is separate.”
“And the FDA wants all twelve benchmarks met simultaneously, not sequentially.”
“Correct. Which is why the modular approach didn’t work—we can’t phase it in. It needs to function as an integrated system from day one.”
She chews her lip, staring at the data. “What if we’re thinking about this wrong?”
“Wrong how?”
“We’ve been trying to rebuild the existing framework to meet the new standards. But what if the framework itself is the problem?” She stands, pacing the way she does when her brain is working faster than her mouth. “The original architecture was designed for the old benchmarks. We keep trying to patch it, but every patch creates new vulnerabilities.”
“So you’re suggesting we scrap it entirely and start over? We don’t have time for that.”
“No, not scrap it. But what if we...” She trails off, frowning at the whiteboard covered in our increasingly desperate diagrams.
I watch her think. This is one of my favorite things—watching Audrey’s mind work. The way her eyes go slightly unfocused, the way she taps her fingers against her thigh in an unconscious rhythm, the way her whole body stills when she’s close to something.
And suddenly, watching her, something clicks.
“Audrey.”
“Hang on, I’m almost?—”
“Audrey.” I stand up so fast my chair rolls backward and hits the wall. “What if we don’t try to secure the data stream at all?”
She stares at me. “That’s the opposite of what we need to do.”
“No, listen.” My brain is firing now, connections sparking. “We’ve been trying to secure the data as it moves through the system. That’s the vulnerability—data in transit. But what if we eliminate transit entirely?”
“You can’t eliminate data transit. The whole point is real-time monitoring?—”
“Real-time monitoring doesn’t require centralized storage.” I grab a marker and start drawing on the whiteboard. “What if each implant processes its own data locally? On-device encryption, on-device analysis. The only thing transmitted is the output—alerts, summaries, actionable information. Not the raw data.”
Audrey’s eyes widen. “Edge computing. You want to turn each implant into its own secure processing node.”
“Exactly. The attack simulations keep breaching our central server because that’s where all the sensitive data lives. But if the sensitive data never leaves the device?—”
“There’s nothing to breach.” She’s nodding now, her own excitement building. “The implant becomes a closed system.The only communication is outbound alerts through encrypted channels.”
“Which we can authenticate individually instead of trying to secure an entire network.”
“Logan.” She’s grinning at me, that full-wattage smile that makes my chest tight. “That’s brilliant.”
“It might not work. The processing requirements for on-device analysis?—”
“We can optimize. Compress the algorithms, prioritize critical functions.” She’s already back at her workstation, pulling up specs. “The implant’s chip has more capacity than we’re currently using. If we reallocate the processing power...”
We work in tandem for the next hour, barely speaking except to exchange data points and confirmations. It’s like a dance—she handles the biomedical requirements while I restructure the architecture, our expertise dovetailing seamlessly.
“OK.” Audrey leans back, rubbing her eyes. “I think we have something. It’s rough, but it’s viable.”
“Viable pending stress testing,” I add. “We won’t know if it holds until we throw real attack simulations at it.”
“Optimism, Logan. Try it sometime.”
“I’m optimistic. I’m also a realist. This architecture has never been deployed at scale. We’re betting on theory.”
