Chapter
Twenty
Eternity
The Troy police had to control the crowd of news people and uplink vans that converged on the small town. They were everywhere — at the high school, at Cameron’s barbershop, at the county courthouse, and, particularly, at Cameron’s home. All the publicity brought inquisitive tourists from Minnesota, Iowa, and Illinois. There were even protesters (from out of town) who came to picket the high school. If the town wasn’t making so much money from all the visitors, the people of Troy might have gotten upset.
Cameron couldn’t even mow the driving range or pick up balls without some film crew or another following him. Mr. Jeffries, the owner of the driving range, loved the free publicity. People from cities all over the area now came to hit golf balls and play miniature golf in the hopes of being caught by some news camera.
“Do you think GundTech could make me an IHT golf course?” he asked Cameron one day. Another day he said, “I’ve got it! Miniature golf on Mars! Whatcha think of that?”
There was also a great interest in Billy Four-Eyes. Cameron’s father, who was a professional writer, asked his agent if he could work out a deal. Cameron, Rosa, and all the kids who worked on the animation were astounded by the large amount of money they were offered. When Billy finished counting the five zeros following the number three on the check, he looked up at Mr. Rush and said, “Cool!” Mrs. Rush worked with a local bank to create a trust fund in which the money was deposited. It was agreed the money would be used equally by all the kids involved, for their college education.
It was somewhat easier for Rosa. The ranch was isolated, and the house was behind a ridge almost a mile off the road. Although the sheriff’s department kept news trucks from parking on the road, it couldn’t stop all of the reporters and photographers. A day didn’t go by without a helicopter or two circling the Costas house or scouring the vast ranch with hopes of photographing the cowgirl hard at work on the range.
Speculation about the IHT was running rampant in the tabloid press and sensational media. The worst of the lot was a concerted campaign by the Committee for Responsible Technology, which was soon referred to simply as COMFORT. It was a particularly vile campaign, designed to instill a fear of the new technology in the general public. This was the group organized by the Swiss financier, Josef Calthern, who funded the organization privately. Calthern’s pockets were deep, and the campaign went on unchecked. Meagan’s and Jason’s investigation of Calthern revealed him to be every bit as reclusive and enigmatic as the man behind GundTech. Meagan was proud of the fact that WBN refused to run any of the contemptible COMFORT spots.
Time dragged slowly toward the first Saturday in September, the day scheduled for the IHT Academy Orientation. Unfortunately for the American students, orientation started at noon, Oslo time. For Rosa, Cameron, and their families, it would be early Saturday morning.
Meagan Fletcher received a beautifully embossed invitation delivered by special messenger. “Dear Ms. Fletcher,” it began, “You have been selected as one of five world media people to attend and report on the orientation session for the GundTech International IHT Academy.”
So this is the invitation, she thought. I’ll get to meet X-Boy in person —well, sort of.
The invitation went on to remind the news agencies that the Academy was a “Level 1” IHT experience. This meant there would be no physical hologram generated, so cameras were unnecessary and, in fact, useless.
The reporter sat in her darkened
office contemplating everything she knew about GundTech, X-Boy, and X-Boy’s
friend, the elusive boy genius. She laughed at herself in disbelief for not telling
anyone about X-Boy’s revelations.
He didn’t ask to be “off the record.” Did he? She thought.
I could have used anything he said if I wanted. But he knew I wouldn’t
broadcast anything I couldn’t confirm from another source, and there wasn’t
much of a chance of that, was there? Then there’s this fear of trouble
from within. What’s that about? How could I help? Wait a minute! Within?
Maybe that was a key to getting some answers!
“Jason, are you busy?”
“No, Meagan. Just reading Mark Twain’s Puddin’ Head Wilson. How can I help you?”
“Don’t most programmers sign their work? You know, like artists.”
“Program code is often riddled by identifying marks and surprises called Easter Eggs.”
“But can you identify the programmer by an Easter Egg?”
“Probably not. But, perhaps, in the commenting.”
“Commenting?”
“Commenting is a part of the code that is not processed. It is skipped over when a program runs.”
“Then what good is it?”
“It helps a programmer ‘comment’ or describe the purpose of a section of code. This is very important in organizing the program and in tracing bugs or errors.”
“Well then, could you search the commenting in your own program code for any clues that might help identify your creator?”
It was ten minutes before Jason told Meagan what he had found. When she took it all in, she clasped her hands behind her head and leaned back in her chair. She had the look of satisfaction on her face, but she knew that the time from now to the day of the orientation would seem like an eternity..
– End Chapter Twenty –
