Better for Everyone

Chapter 6: Coding Chaos

"And," Alana continued. "As your program expands, people are going to want more codes, so the array is going to grow as people think of stuff to add. We call it 'scope creep.' But your old commands of Ok, Acknowledge and Cancel are still in the same place, no matter how much your scope creeps. So you don't have to reprogram everything just because someone wanted to add a new command."

"So what does this mean?" The agent asked.

"It means," Marty said. "We can alter the code so that no matter what code is intended, KAMS always sends whatever is in array 0, or array 1 or in whatever array we want. We could even change the code so that if you send out one message, KAMS will randomly pick a different array item and send that instead."

"So chaos?" The FBI agent said. "The control tower sends a message to take off, but the planes receive a message to land."

"That's what we think," Marty said. "It's what you wanted, right? We won't know for sure unless you have a Gilead jet fighter lying around. But 157 array locations is such a strange number, it has to be the messaging array. Most programmers allocate memory in chunks: 256, 512, 1024, 2048. This is just too weird to pass up. Why are we doing this anyway? This is a lot of trouble just to screw with their Air Force and once they figure it out, they are just going to delete the program and load from backup."

The FBI agent smiled.

"Like you said - chaos."

SOGS Maryland. Naval Submarine Base King's Bay, Georgia. Republic of Gilead.

Commander Faircloth wrinkled his nose as he entered the Captain's quarters. Smoking had been banned on US Navy Submarines since 2009, but everyone in Gilead seemed to smoke these days. After banning most sports, pornography, and The Internet, the common people needed some kind of vice and at least Gilead cigarettes were all-natural, additive-free and could be grown in North Carolina.

Officially, The Republic of Gilead Navy allowed commander's discretion when it came to smoking on vessels. Although the Commander was in charge of the entire Navy, the Captain was still in charge of the boat.

The Captain stood when the commander entered the room. A lit cigarette simmered in an ashtray on the commander's table. The captain saluted and the commander returned the salute.

"Commander," The Captain said. "May I present to you a gift?"

The Captain motioned to a shoebox-sized lump on his desk that was covered with a towel.

The Commander removed the towel. Underneath was a block of what looked like grey putty in the shape of a hexagon with a slight concave depression. Commander Faircloth smiled.

"You did it?" Commander Faircloth asked.

The Captain nodded as he spoke.

"We had teams at Lawrence Livermore and Savannah River working around the clock. We were able to refresh the tritium and manufacture new explosive triggers. We'll have one missile on-line by tomorrow. The rest within a month."

Gilead was a nuclear power again.

Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, Republic of Gilead

They called it The Crucible. In the final phase of boot camp, Guardian Marines spent 54 hours with little sleep, constant marching and only one meal a day.

To Jason Wolf, surviving The Crucible was easy compared to living as an orphan during the revolution, but the end was near. His exhausted platoon had marched all night and soon they were on main post, marching toward the Camp Lejeune replica of the Marine Corps Iwo Jima monument. The Gilead flag - a golden eye in a sunburst on a blue background - fluttered on the pole as six bronze Marines in World War Two dress stood trapped in the act of raising the flag of God over Mount Suribachi.