Robert’s modified code. Which he took with him when I fired him on account of his breach of contract and threat to Veil.
At the time, I did not care. I was committed to Veil. Robert was not responsible for my vision or my product. I was.
But the truth remained, haunting me every day since he left with that damn algorithm of mine he’d tweaked.
And every day Phantom is delayed, I chastise myself for not seizing that algorithm as property of Veil.
There is no taking it back now, even if I wanted to. At this point, it’s his word against mine, and even if Icouldsomehow get my hands on that code, there’s no telling if it would be the same one responsible for creating the glitch. Knowing Robert, he’d slip me a trojan horse and back slash his way into my entire operation. He’s conniving like that.
Topping from the bottom is Robert Stratdord’s signature.
“That’s not happening, Ericson. You know that.” I focus my attention on Maria. “Can’t you back-engineer the source code?”
Maria’s eyes widen. “Mr. Pierce, that could takemonths.”
“What have you been doing all this time? Sucking your damn thumbs?” I mutter.
“Sloane!” Chickadee stands, her voice echoing like a bell. “That is enough! You know these three have been working their asses off in here every day for the last six months. Foryou.”
“And yet, we still have no sign of progress,” I growl. “We are no closer to stabilizing Phantom. I needanswers, not hypotheses and half-baked guesses.”
I look up, noting Oliver has his hand raised.
“What?” I snipe.
“These prototypes…” Oliver gets up, sauntering to the end of the table where I am losing my mind, my hands sweaty against the wood of the table. Several prototypes litter the table, all in various states of decay. Burned wires. Fried motherboards.
“You designed them tohostPhantom, right?”
I look up at Oliver’s gaze. He stands beside me, picking up one of the smaller devices.
“Yes," I say carefully. “These were designed to host the program and act as standalone surveillance.”
“What if…” Oliver’s green eyes sparkle with curiosity. “Instead of trying tohostthe code like a visitor…” He twists his lips. “What if you programmed the, uh… host… toreadthe program. Like a plug-in.”
“Read the program?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Like apatch.An update to the system, not a modificationtothe system.”
The room falls silent.
“That…” Bill strokes his chin as Ericson blinks.
“That could work,” Maria says, nodding. “I mean intheoryit makes sense.”
“A patch,” Bill says in awe.
I look at Oliver, my gaze finding his scrupulous one.
“That’s a great idea, Oliver,” Chickadee says, her voice full of praise. “Don’t you agree, Sloane?”
Oliver’s gaze softens if only for a moment as he holds mine hostage.
“Yes,” I say, my voice even. “I think at this point, we are open to trying anything if it means there is achancewe could solve this riddle.”
“Alright, then,” Maria says. “Bill and I will start drafting up notes and Ericson can start with the code adjustments.”
“Good. I want daily progress check-ins. You can message Oliver.”
