"Vox recog calibrate for new user," Phil instructed the computer.
"Security access heuristics must be designated prior to addition of new users," the computer replied. Phil figured the others might get a laugh out of him configuring the computer to speak using the voice of Majel Barrett Roddenberry, who supplied the famous computer voice from Star Trek. He was a bit upset that he couldn't designate more than one administrator at the same time, but after consulting the documentation for the computer core, he decided the long way was the only way.
Not wanting to start a fight, he reluctantly entered Grissom into the user database as an administrator on the same access level as Phil. The two of them would share unrestricted access to the entire MBL computer network. He hoped that might win at least some of Montag's trust. "Griss," he called.
The mercenary walked into the steel-and-concrete "panic room" that housed the new computer core, which would serve as the brain behind a complex security and information network reaching throughout the building. "What is it?" he asked.
"I'm configuring the voice-command system for the core," Phil replied. "You're an administrator, so we need to teach the computer your voiceprint and access codes."
Grissom cast a curious eye on the core, which resembled nothing so much as the monolith from 2001, a tall, thin rectangular prism made of some unidentifiable solid black composite material. It was about four and a half feet high, two feet wide, and no more than six inches in thickness. "This little box is going to run the whole show?" the merc asked. "What kind of power can we squeeze out of that little thing?"
Phil smiled. "Five terabytes of physical memory. A processor with an operating rate of nearly eight gigahertz. Enough bandwidth to keep Yahoo! and MSN running worldwide. And some of the most advanced voice recognition and security encryption algorithms ever devised." He looked at Grissom. "Is that enough power to scrape by for now?"
Grissom's eyes widened. "Where could you have possibly gotten something like this? Who could have manufactured it?"
"It wasn't manufactured," Phil said. "It was designed by collaborating groups from Cal Tech and MIT. This is a prototype for an unimaginably powerful supercomputer. Only five computers with this much power are known to exist in the entire world. One is at MIT, one is somewhere in Washington, and two are unaccounted for. And one is here."
"You said an IT contractor owed you a favor," Grissom muttered.
Phil nodded. "And I wasn't lying. I just didn't want to spill everything out in the open."
"In front of other team members."
"Do you tell the others everything?"
Grissom thumped his fist on the wall next to him. "Phil, if you want to be part of this team, you're gonna have to start trusting everyone."
Phil looked at him blankly. "Griss, I don't know if you've noticed or not yet, but things are changing. Old members of the MBL are returning, and new ones-" he caught himself "-newer ones than us, at least, are strolling through the door faster than we can keep up with them. Now, I'm not paranoid, and I have no problems with anyone on this team. They've all been pretty cool, and I have no reason to be angry with any of them. But in all honesty, only a handful have managed to earn my trust thus far.
"Chance is a nice guy, but he's a pacifist and a scientist, and as an intelligence gatherer of a completely different kind, I can't trust him to understand - and therefore to cooperate - with any work of mine to make this team a viable fighting force. Euro totes around a mystical sword which has clearly gone to his head, convincing him that this whole hero thing is all about him. Tayden? He claims to be an angel, which I believe, but I would never expect him to understand that he ultimately has to take sides when we mortals face off against each other.
"Ameristar - Jackie - is a great person, but she's completely caught up in being the stereotypical superhero - a tactical nightmare for anyone who thinks practically. Blackwulf sees everything so flippantly. For me it's just an affectation, but I doubt he really can see the seriousness of anything - at least enough to be trusted to uphold our operational infrastructure. Mxy is about as different as it gets. Drax, the new guy - I've never even spoken to him. And I could go on and on."
"In that case," Grissom asked, "who do you trust?"
Phil thought a moment. "Danny stuck his neck out for me when I first arrived here. We're both misfits after a fashion, and he's never given me a reason to question his leadership. Grimm is pretty damn strange, but his loyalties are consistent and he's a good fighter. I don't butt heads - pardon the pun - with him very often. Dirk - pretty much the same story. I'm pretty sure we see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. Priest is definitely not someone you take lightly, but he's had the opportunity to hurt us for a wihle now and has only helped at every turn. And I'm pretty sure I can trust you, Griss. We are, after all, on the same side here."
Griss looked away. "How do you know I wouldn't turn on you if I got the chance?"
"I don't," Phil replied. "But you've got resources and skills that I need. Sooner or later you have to trust someone like that. I'm sure you agree." He walked over to the console. "This computer's not getting calibrated any quicker, you know."
Grissom sighed. "What do I do?"
Phil handed him a white card with printed instructions. "It's all right here."
"Understood." Grissom looked over the card. "And Phil?"
Phil turned.
"Thanks for trusting me," the mercenary said. "You'll be glad you did."
