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Colemenoport

Skywise Provianto


“What happened here is that somebody spoofed the lock,” the lockmaker told Bell. He shrugged. “It happens.”

Bell considered him, very aware of Luzant nirAmit standing just behind her at the bar in the private party suite, which doubled at need as a conference room.

“Spoofed the lock,” she repeated now, looking hard into the lockmaker’s face. “And how was that done, precisely?”

The lockmaker didn’t quite roll her eyes.

“Complicated to explain when the energies involved aren’t intuitive,” she said, which was very nearly diplomatic. “Some folks are mimics, see? And some of those folks have . . . time on their hands, and mischief on their minds. They can see the lock we made for your door, and they can see the key—”

“Which is, so you told me at the time, my personal signature,” Bell said.

“That’s right. If you got their attention for some reason, they could study on you, make a replica of your signature—now, that’s a lot of work, and there’s not many who have the skill or the patience. But, like I said, it does happen, and we’re insured against it, so you won’t be out of pocket for the new lock—”

“And this new lock,” Bell interrupted, “will it be built properly?”

The lockmaker stiffened.

“Understand what I’m saying, Surda. There was nothing wrong with the lock. It was the fact of somebody spoofing it that got them in. The lock worked just fine.”

Bell looked to Luzant nirAmit.

“Surda erVinton asked me to inspect the lock, as I am able to perform that service for her,” he said, still maintaining his secondary position. “I agree that the lock performed its function perfectly, accepting the signature it was given. Locks are simple things, and may only react to the data they are offered—open or remain closed.”

The lockmaker’s shoulders eased.

“However,” said Luzant nirAmit.

The lockmaker stiffened again.

“I only wonder why you provided Surda erVinton with quite so simple a lock,” Luzant nirAmit said temperately. “A single-signature lock, even in so peaceable a quarter of the port—seems to beg for those who have mischief on their minds to expend a little effort in pursuit of their . . . fun. Do you not make two-level locks, Luzant? Ought I to advise Surda erVinton to seek another Fabricator, or are you able assist her in her goal of keeping her business secure?”

“With all respect, Luzant, Surda erVinton is Deaf. How do you imagine that she will produce the interactive pattern?”

“Many years ago, one of my mother’s acquaintances had a two-level lock. The first was a passive recognition system, as you had installed for Surda erVinton. The second-level verification was a plain-tech handprint. Neither system was perfect, alone, but used together, they stood faithful guardians for many, many years.”

The lockmaker blinked.

“Signature and tech,” she repeated, staring at some point beyond Bell’s right shoulder. “I have seen articles, which were inconclusive—as you mention, Luzant, the tech-side of that equation is not proof—only—”

She looked to Bell.

“Surda erVinton, do you carry a pocket comm?”

Bell produced a small smile.

“I am a member of a large and busy family, Luzant. Yes, I carry a pocket comm.”

The lockmaker squinted once more at the far wall, as if assuring herself that she had solved a difficult sum completely.

“Here is what I propose, then. I will install a new signature lock, coupled with an electronic repeater. When you approach, the lock will read your signature. If it is found to be a match, the release will engage, but, instead of unlocking the door, it will trigger a call to your pocket comm. Press answer, and the lock will disengage. If you do not press answer, the lock will remain in force.”

“And if the call does not arrive?” Luzant nirAmit murmured.

The lockmaker looked serious.

“If the call does not arrive, then my advice to Surda erVinton would be to withdraw and call our service, to which she already subscribes as a valued customer. We will dispatch a technician, or call Security on the Surda’s behalf. She would remain at a distance to await our assessment.” The lockmaker gave Luzant nirAmit a bold look. “We do not endanger our customers, Luzant.”

“I am pleased to hear it,” he murmured. “Surda erVinton, are you satisfied with this two-level lock proposed by the Fabricator?”

“I am,” she said. “It is in line with what we discussed, sir, after you had inspected our current lock. I do wonder, though”—this to the lockmaker—“how quickly this new lock may be installed.”

“Surda, it will be installed before you close for Night Port. If it is not, I will overlock the door with my own signature. In the time between, I will have our own security personnel add the Provianto to an hourly sweep until the new lock is installed and improved. Do these arrangements satisfy, Surda?”

“They do, I thank you,” Bell said.

The lockmaker tarried a few more moments, taking measurements and readings, and departed.

Bell turned to Luzant nirAmit.

“Thank you, sir, for your assistance. I am grateful.”

“Thank you, Surda, for allowing me to help,” Luzant nirAmit said. “If there is anything else that will benefit from my intervention on your behalf, I beg you will allow me to assist again.”

He bowed.

“And now, I bid you good day, Surda.”

He bowed once more, and left her, not waiting for her escort to the door.


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Framed