Zero Day: A Novel by Mark Russinovich, Howard Schmidt Read Free Book Online
Authors: Mark Russinovich, Howard Schmidt
handle fully down.
Favor turned to the other. Josh had managed to move the switch an inch from the wall. All three men grabbed a piece of it and pulled. Slowly the handle moved until it too was in the down position. The men stood silently, panting, waiting.
The fail-safe was a direct cable to the control rods. The levers severed the cable holding them aloft. In theory, the control rods would drop into the core by gravity, shutting down the reactors.
“Do you think it worked?” Orin asked in a near whisper.
“I hope to God it did, Orin. I sure hope it did.”
Josh glanced nervously toward the door. “Maybe we should get out of here, just in case.” Nodding their agreement, the others followed.
At the door, Favor turned back and looked at the elaborate control panel one more time. How could this happen? He wiped his bare hand across his face, which was drenched with sweat. A thought chilled him to the bone. What if the thing isn’t dead? What if it is just playing possum?
Favor turned and walked away. Within a few feet, he was running.
7
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK
MERCY HOSPITAL
MONDAY, AUGUST 14
5:09 P.M.
At Brooklyn’s Mercy Hospital, the fourth hospital Daryl Haugen had visited in the city since arriving early that afternoon, she presented her US-CERT credential to the IT manager. “How many now?” she asked once he’d closed the door to his office.
Willy Winfield was perhaps thirty-five years old, balding, with thick glasses. He understood the question at once. “Still four, so far. We’ve taken all the patients off the computers and are handling medication manually, as we used to.”
“Have you figured out yet what happened?”
“Our medication software was scrambled.” Winfield’s tone was matter-of-fact, but Daryl could hear the heartache behind it. “Patients were given medicines and dosages unrelated to their needs. It’s been a disaster and put us at considerable risk from lawsuits. My people are working on it, but we can use all the help we can get. Would you care to see?”
“Yes, I would. That’s why I’m here.” This was one reason why she’d insisted on getting into the field. Whatever this was, it had already shown itself to be deadly, and she needed to be on the ground to understand its true scope and impact.
They walked along hallways with confusing turns. Modern hospitals had been expanding so rapidly there was often little logic to their layout. Winfield steered right, then right again, then left three times. Some of the hallways turned off at less than right angles. Within a few turns, she was hopelessly lost.
At last he said, “Here.” Winfield took her into ICU, where a young girl lay fighting for her life. She looked perhaps eight years old. The number of wires running from her body were distressing, as was the steady beep of the monitor. A nurse hovered beside the girl poised for immediate action. Daryl was anything but sentimental. As she gazed at the inert form of the helpless child, though, the objective software engineer threatened to give way to the woman who adored children and was devastated to see one in such condition. Pulling herself together, she asked, “What happened?”
“Her medication was mixed, like the others. Her heart stopped—for an undetermined period of time, since she wasn’t on a monitor. There was no need…” The man was near tears.
Not far away a young couple watched the girl through a large window. Seeing where Daryl looked, Winfield said, “Her parents. Very nice people.”
“What’s going to happen?”
“We’re waiting for her signs to improve before we take her off the ventilator.” He touched Daryl’s sleeve and gently led her away. “The doctor believes she suffered severe brain damage. She’s young and strong. He’s hoping she’ll recover, but it’s not looking good. I wanted you to see the human toll this has taken.”
Daryl nodded. “I see it. I’d like to look at your system, if I could, and talk with your
Favor turned to the other. Josh had managed to move the switch an inch from the wall. All three men grabbed a piece of it and pulled. Slowly the handle moved until it too was in the down position. The men stood silently, panting, waiting.
The fail-safe was a direct cable to the control rods. The levers severed the cable holding them aloft. In theory, the control rods would drop into the core by gravity, shutting down the reactors.
“Do you think it worked?” Orin asked in a near whisper.
“I hope to God it did, Orin. I sure hope it did.”
Josh glanced nervously toward the door. “Maybe we should get out of here, just in case.” Nodding their agreement, the others followed.
At the door, Favor turned back and looked at the elaborate control panel one more time. How could this happen? He wiped his bare hand across his face, which was drenched with sweat. A thought chilled him to the bone. What if the thing isn’t dead? What if it is just playing possum?
Favor turned and walked away. Within a few feet, he was running.
7
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK
MERCY HOSPITAL
MONDAY, AUGUST 14
5:09 P.M.
At Brooklyn’s Mercy Hospital, the fourth hospital Daryl Haugen had visited in the city since arriving early that afternoon, she presented her US-CERT credential to the IT manager. “How many now?” she asked once he’d closed the door to his office.
Willy Winfield was perhaps thirty-five years old, balding, with thick glasses. He understood the question at once. “Still four, so far. We’ve taken all the patients off the computers and are handling medication manually, as we used to.”
“Have you figured out yet what happened?”
“Our medication software was scrambled.” Winfield’s tone was matter-of-fact, but Daryl could hear the heartache behind it. “Patients were given medicines and dosages unrelated to their needs. It’s been a disaster and put us at considerable risk from lawsuits. My people are working on it, but we can use all the help we can get. Would you care to see?”
“Yes, I would. That’s why I’m here.” This was one reason why she’d insisted on getting into the field. Whatever this was, it had already shown itself to be deadly, and she needed to be on the ground to understand its true scope and impact.
They walked along hallways with confusing turns. Modern hospitals had been expanding so rapidly there was often little logic to their layout. Winfield steered right, then right again, then left three times. Some of the hallways turned off at less than right angles. Within a few turns, she was hopelessly lost.
At last he said, “Here.” Winfield took her into ICU, where a young girl lay fighting for her life. She looked perhaps eight years old. The number of wires running from her body were distressing, as was the steady beep of the monitor. A nurse hovered beside the girl poised for immediate action. Daryl was anything but sentimental. As she gazed at the inert form of the helpless child, though, the objective software engineer threatened to give way to the woman who adored children and was devastated to see one in such condition. Pulling herself together, she asked, “What happened?”
“Her medication was mixed, like the others. Her heart stopped—for an undetermined period of time, since she wasn’t on a monitor. There was no need…” The man was near tears.
Not far away a young couple watched the girl through a large window. Seeing where Daryl looked, Winfield said, “Her parents. Very nice people.”
“What’s going to happen?”
“We’re waiting for her signs to improve before we take her off the ventilator.” He touched Daryl’s sleeve and gently led her away. “The doctor believes she suffered severe brain damage. She’s young and strong. He’s hoping she’ll recover, but it’s not looking good. I wanted you to see the human toll this has taken.”
Daryl nodded. “I see it. I’d like to look at your system, if I could, and talk with your