‘What is he talking about?’
Artemis coughed, clearing his throat. ‘The Cube cannot scan a closed system unless the omni-sensor is actually touching the computer or, at least, close by. Phonetix is so paranoid about hackers that the research and development lab is completely contained, buried under several floors of solid rock. They don’t even have e-mail. I know because I’ve tried to hack it myself a few times.’
‘But the Cube scanned the satellite, didn’t it?’
‘The satellite is broadcasting. And if it’s broadcasting, the Cube can trace it.’
Spiro toyed with the links of his ID chain. ‘So, I’d have to go to Phonetix.’
‘I wouldn’t recommend it,’ said Artemis. ‘It’s a lot to risk for the sake of a personal vendetta.’
Blunt stepped forward. ‘Let me go, Mister Spiro. I’ll get those plans.’
Spiro chewed on a handful of vitamin supplements from a dispenser on his belt.
‘It’s a nice idea, Arno. Good work. But I am reluctant to hand control of the Cube over to anyone else. Who knows what temptation they might yield to? Cube, can you disable the Phonetix alarm system?’
‘Can a dwarf blow a hole in his pants?’
‘What was that?’
‘Eh… Nothing. Technical term. You wouldn’t understand it. I have already disabled the Phonetix system.’
‘What about the guards, Cube? Can you disable them?’
‘No problemo. I could remote-activate the internal security measure.’
‘Which is?’
‘Tanks of vapour inside the air vents. Sleeping gas. Illegal, by the way, according to Chicago State Law. But clever, no after-effects, untraceable. The intruder comes to in lock-up two hours later.’
Spiro cackled. ‘Those paranoid Phonetix boys. Go ahead, Cube, knock ’em out.’
‘Night night,’ said Foaly, with a glee that seemed all too real.
‘Good. Now, Cube, all that stands between us and the Phonetix blueprints is an encrypted computer.’
‘Don’t make me laugh. They haven’t invented a unit of time short enough to measure how long it will take me to crack the Phonetix hard disk.’
Spiro clipped the Cube on to his belt. ‘You know something? I’m starting to like this guy.’
Artemis made one last sincere-sounding attempt to contain the situation. ‘Mister Spiro, I really don’t think that this is a good idea.’
‘Of course you don’t,’ laughed Jon Spiro, jangling towards the door. ‘That’s why I’m bringing you along.’
PHONETIX RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT LABORATORiES, CHICAGO’S INDUSTRIAL SECTOR
Spiro selected a Lincoln Town Car from his extensive garage. It was a nineties model, with fake registration. He often used it as a getaway vehicle. It was old enough to be unremarkable, and even if the police did get a shot of the plates, it wouldn’t lead them anywhere.
Blunt parked opposite the Phonetix R & D lab’s main entrance. A security guard was visible at his desk behind the glass revolving door. Arno pulled a pair of fold-up binoculars from the glove compartment. He focused on the guard.
‘Sleeping like a baby,’ he announced.
Spiro clapped him on the shoulder.
‘Good. We have less than two hours. Can we do it?’
‘If this Cube is as good as it says it is, then we can be in and out in fifteen minutes.’
‘It’s a machine,’ said Artemis coldly. ‘Not one of your steroid-munching associates.’
Blunt glanced over his shoulder. Artemis sat in the back seat, squashed between Pex and Chips.
‘You’re very brave all of a sudden.’
Artemis shrugged. ‘What have I got to lose? After all, things can hardly get worse.’
There was a normal door beside the revolving one. The Cube remote-activated the buzzer, admitting the band of intruders to the lobby. No alarms sounded, and no platoon of security guards came rushing to detain them.
Spiro strode down the corridor, emboldened by his new-found technological friend and the thought of finally putting Phonetix out of business. The security lift put up no more resistance to the Cube than a picket fence would to a tank, and soon Spiro and Co. were riding the eight floors down to the sunken laboratory.
‘We’re going underground,’ chortled Pex. ‘Down where the dinosaur bones are. Did you know that after a million billion years dinosaur dung turns into diamonds?’
Usually a comment like that would have been a shootable offence, but Spiro was in a good mood.
‘No, I didn’t know that, Pex. Maybe I should pay your wages in dung.’
Pex decided that it would be better for his finances if he just kept his mouth shut from then on.
The lab itself was protected by a thumbprint scanner. Not even gel. It was a simple matter for the Cube to scan the fingerprint on the plate then project it back on to the sensor. There wasn’t even a key-code back-up.
‘Easy,’ crowed Spiro. ‘I should have done this years ago.’