Dark Dawn - Part 2

Counting the chips

High-tech company Systemax has a global reputation. Sophisticated computer chips of its design are embedded in systems and machinery worldwide. But on the eve of the new millennium, its most lucrative deal comes back to haunt it. Part two of PAUL HEWLETT'S thriller.


December 30, 08:15, Northland


Greenback came in from his organic wasabi greenhouse for a miso soup. He noticed Anita flicking frantically through an old address book.

"Hey, what's up?"

"The second batch of the Renegade EPIC chips went out."

"What?" "Shirley called from Chicago asking what I knew about Project Renegade. We've got to do something. If those chips are out there ... think of the damage they could do."

Anita stared at Greenback, expecting her shock to be shared, but he was shuffling through a pile of magazines.

"Anita, it's gotta be a mistake. Someone's got the wrong clipboard."

"You of all people should care, William. Those businesses would be sitting ducks, thinking they're fine, all checked out for Y2K ... then, bang, total systems failure."

"It's a mistake, Anita. Guaranteed."

"Do you think I should call Robert?"

"Sure - nothing like a chief executive for getting on top of things ... even if he's your ex."

"Will you help me, William? I mean, if we do need to warn people. Would you help me deactivate the chips?" Greenback looked at Anita and saw the concern in her face.

"Yeah, Anita, if it comes to that," he said, "but it's not really our problem anymore."

"We started it, William, never forget that."

Greenback went into the garden. He could hear a tui in the bush beyond the stream. He was amazed by the tranquillity. Did the world know what was coming? The silence before the storm. He dialled a number on his GSM phone. "No you listen. You sort this out. I can't dissuade her. It's better I look helpful, then at least I can keep tabs on things."

He hung up and went back to his greenhouse, so gracefully extending from the old barn Greenback called his Y2K shelter.


December 30, 09:00 NZ time, Washington DC


At the White House Y2K monitoring unit, a visit from top brass has the team assembled for one more pre-millennium simulation. Admiral Warren Tennison surveyed the bank of computer screens, and welcomed the officers and staff that would operate the nerve centre and keep the President informed.

"So, New Zealand is the first guinea pig out of the hutch?" he said. "They got anything that could go bang?"

"Volcanoes, sir, but we don't expect any problem with those."

"Well, people, we can't stop the clock - let's simulate."

Teams, rosters, work plans were organised and gone over. Systems of reporting and analysis were checked out. Nations and economies would be monitored and tracked as they rolled into the new millennium. These were the electronic paramedics, taking the pulse of the planet. Seeking out millennium bugs that had stayed hiding in the shadows.

Their eyes and ears would be trained first and foremost on New Zealand, the first to see the light, but more importantly, first to rollover in the dark.


December 30, 09:15, Northland


Anita printed the list of companies that Shirley had just e-mailed to her. It was a list of Systemax customers from the late 1980s - companies she feared might now be using EPIC chips unwittingly if the second batch had become mixed up with shipments of other chips.

She started down the list telephoning IT managers, compiling e-mail addresses or fax numbers. The few managers she managed to speak to were guarded and suspicious. They were already Y2K edgy and wary of freaks and cranks. She did her best, but felt in most cases all they might do was ring Systemax. But at least that might put some heat on.

In most cases, she posted her warning in writing by e-mail or by fax, for which she had composed a standard attachment:

"My name is Anita Hendersen. I was a founding partner of Systemax Technologies, though have subsequently left the company. It has come to my attention that the company may have distributed by mistake some faulty products in its range of electronically programmable interface chips.

"Some of these EPIC chips will test compliant on all Y2K diagnostic tests, but they were designed to fail beyond 2000 to create maximum system damage. This batch was never meant to be made available commercially.

"Anyone with an EPIC chip as a component in their critical systems risks total system failure at some time after the rollover all clear has been given. It is imperative that you contact Systemax. If they do not assist you, please contact me. I have access to the information needed to deactivate the EPIC chips while in operation. This is not a hoax. Please take it seriously."

She looked at the message and felt a little hopeless. She could understand why people thought she was a crank. She hoped that Greenback would be true to his word and help her deactivate any chips that might be discovered. Or that Systemax faced up to its responsibilities and swung its service teams into action.


December 30, 12:35, Auckland


Sir Henry sighed deeply as he replaced the receiver. It had been his third such call this morning, this time from the chief executive of a major dairy company.

On each occasion he had given a personal guarantee as chairman of Systemax that there was no way rogue EPIC chips could possibly be in systems at their company. Everyone was nervous enough about embedded chips. This was the last thing anyone needed.

He could not, of course, explain why the deviant strand of EPIC chips had been developed. Or why he could give such a categorical assurance.

On each occasion his assurance had been accepted, and IT departments around the world were told to not give the matter another thought. He had been forced to outline Anita's unstable emotional state, a history of personal vendettas, her divorce from Robert Cox, the Systemax CEO.

Sir Henry asked his secretary to find a cafe somewhere quiet in Ponsonby, and invite Anita Hendersen to meet him there mid-afternoon. This whole thing was getting a little out of hand.


December 30, 15:15, Ponsonby


"Thanks for coming, Anita." Sir Henry stood as she approached the table and drew back a chair for her. She found herself another.

"I agreed to hear you out, Henry," she said, "but I think you know why I have to do this."

Catching the eye of a passing waiter, Sir Henry pointed at his empty wine glass. "I'm having another. What would you like? Some food?"

"Decaff flat white. I'm not eating."

Sir Henry hated Ponsonby, but he couldn't afford to meet Anita at any of his usual city haunts. All around him were people who devoured scandal and gossip faster than piranhas could strip cattle. A world of people who walked around as though they ought to be recognised. He was aware of their eyes on Anita. Not only was she a striking woman, but she wore the air of one possessed. Jilted, they would be thinking. Or cheated. She had an aura of righteous anger which, he had to concede, she wore rather well.

"It's your business whether or not you continue to make a fool of yourself, Anita. My concern is the company's customers, scared out of their wits that they've got some sleeping timebomb in their systems. That's hardly responsible, is it?" "Someone has to warn them, since Systemax has chosen to ignore the problem."

Sir Henry leaned forward. "Anita, what will it take to convince you that these chips are not out there? The Americans found and replaced their Renegade chips when the Cold War ended - under the guise of their UN-sponsored Y2K assistance package. They pulled them out of Russian power stations, Chinese nuclear plants. All of them. I know you didn't agree with the sale, Anita, but it's behind us."

She began to speak, but he raised his hand to cut her off, anticipating her, "And the second batch never went out. I'd like to know myself what happened to those chips, but I suspect only you are in the position to find that out." Anita looked puzzled.

"Your friend, William," Sir Henry continued, "they were his chips, it was his batch, the reserve arrangements were his responsibility."

"Greenback?" Anita said. "God, you and Robert are as bad as each other. Find any scapegoat you can."

"Shirley was very wrong to have contacted you." Sir Henry studied Anita as her eyes bounced up. "It's okay, her position is safe. We've chalked it up to experience. But she should have waited for the facts."

"You can't be sure those chips didn't go out." Anita resisted Sir Henry's logic. She pulled out a cigarette and lit up. Sir Henry raised his eyebrows disapprovingly. A sign of stress - old habits. Anita exhaled across the table. "We've been over the dispatch reports. There's no way, Anita. Our technical support staff would have known.

"So where are they?"

"I don't know - but I wish I did. Perhaps our little genius wanted a souvenir."

"You really think Greenback knows something about this?"

"What do you think, Anita?" Sir Henry gave her a knowing look. He was betting on Greenback having more to lose than him - or thinking that. And he knew how obstinate and evasive William could be.

Sir Henry stirred sugar into his coffee.

"Please stop contacting these companies, Anita. It's hard enough keeping on top of real problems."

Anita felt confused. She felt the velvet gloves of Sir Henry's famous hardsell spinning her around and around on the same spot.

"I think Robert has his doubts. I think he actually fears they did go out."

"He is still easily swayed by you, Anita, we all are."

"Oh, stop it, Henry, don't give me that. What if the Huntly power station goes down, or an air traffic control tower? Not tomorrow night at rollover, but in three months - or next winter? The next time a plane falls out of the sky - will we ever know?" The conversation at nearby tables was hushing as Anita became more agitated.

"Anita, you're a smart woman. But isn't it just possible that you've been a little too long on a lifestyle block?"

Sir Henry smiled as caringly as he could.

"Goodbye, Henry. Happy New Year." Anita took another drag, stood up and walked out.


* Part Three tomorrow.