"Okay... okay..." 

Mykola mumbled to himself as he looked around his warehouse home. 

"What I am needing... What... what... Ah, yes, of course."

There was a pile of colorful boxes on a shelf near an old refrigerator.  The Ukranian's finger traced along the labels until he found what he needed.  He grabbed the box and walked over to his computer bench where he turned the container over and made a little pile of fruit-shaped candies next to the mouse pad.

"Now, I am being ready."

Mykola sat down and dug right in to his latest project.  He was determined to reach his goal, that of joining the Olympians.  They were exactly what he was looking for, a way to freely use his talents without fear of having his work turned into something sinister.  They would provide him with resources and security and he in turn would provide them with tools they could use for their altruistic ends.  It seemed a fair bargain.

But being that these were individuals of an impressive nature, it would not do to simply ask.  He would have to do something equally impressive, something that would imbue upon them the depth and scope of what he was offering.  He would have to be equally impressive.

So, instead of sending an email to the Olympians' public account like some ordinary person, he would instead use that account as a way into their mail server.  From there he would identify the private account belonging to their leader and then he would submit his resume.  He would slip in and out of their systems and leave them with no trace of how he accomplished his task.  That shoud peak their curiosity.

Gaining access to the mail account was childs play.  He had played countless simulations against the Russian computer security regimes and they were some of the best.  These he found to be at least their equal.  All the better, he realized.  It would make his feat that much more impressive.

He thought he was making progress until he realized he was going in an endless loop with account leading to a second, leading to a third, and so on until he was back at the beginning. It wasn't like any type of security he'd ever seen. He wasn't blocked from proceeding, in fact after the first security level it had seemed almost child's play to reach the next level. It was only after Mykola was back where he started that he realized there was more to the system than he had counted on.

This is like merry-going-round, he thought to himself.  It was quite clever, actually, and brilliant in its simplicity.  It was like a master of judo.  It didn't try to stop or absorb his attack, it merely redirected it harmlessly.  He thought it original and fascinating.

Perhaps we are going up-down instead of forward-backward, he thought.  The change in the perspective of his attack should lead to another security layer altogether, perhaps stronger but at the same time more orthodox and thus beatable.  He ended his current strings and looked outside the server for perhaps another way in, an admin account perhaps.

Again everything seemed to be going Mykola's way. Whoever had set up the Olympians' network security was good but not as good as some of those Mykola had gone up against and within minutes he had access to the system's admin account. Or so he thought. As soon as he tried to get a listing of running services he was redirected back to the beginning once again.

Mykola sighed.  It was frustrating but he had expected something special and it was an intriguing challenge.  He balied out the admin account and tried to match tactics with the system's defense.  Instead of penetrating, he would evade and redirect.  It was worth a shot.  His fingers clicked away on his keyboard as he coded his parameters.

This time his results weren't as expected. The system locked itself down and a window popped up on Mykola's screen. "You're good but not good enough. Do you really want to continue this?"

Mykola cursed several particualry vile selections he'd heard in his youth.  The one thing he had not wanted to do was to be detected and now there was some security admin practically taunting him.  This was not impressive. 

"Please excuse the intrusion," he typed.  "Can you please direct me to your telecom directory.  Your web site was unclear."

The old lost-and-looking-for-the-bathroom schtick.  It was a feint, but it might work if he got lucky and was dealing with an amateur.

"Of course." The team's public listing appeared on Mykola's screen. At the same time an alert appeared on Mykola's screen. Someone was attempting to trace him.

Got you, Mykola thought with a smirk.  He executed the protocol that would send the very predictable trace into an oblivion loop.  The silly admin could trace all night and it would neither end nor lead anywhere except on a continual path around the globe from random node to random node.  Meanwhile he would use the trace's open port to slip in undetected.

Must keep jerking the chain.  "That is email," he typed.  "You have telecom directory? I am looking for person naming Chuck Finley."

"I'm afraid you have the wrong site. There's no Chuck Finley in our listings. If you tell me what site you thought you were on I may be able to help you." The trace was still running in the background.

"No this cannot be," he typed just before gaining entree into the system proper.  Success!  "Please check again.  It is Finley with a 'D'  The 'D' is being silent."

He sent his message of subterfuge and reached over to the box next to his computer and turned on his little surprise. He'd only just finished building it and for expressly this purpose.  It would add a host of predictive and decrypting algorithms to his link into the system and would act much like the GPS on a car, helping him avoid security pitfalls and find what he was looking for faster. It would also give him a better idea about, well, everything he was encountering within the system.

"I can assure you there is no one by that name in our system. I know everyone . . ." The string of typing cut off about the same time Mykola's program revealed he hadn't been talking to another person but the computer itself. Not only had the computer been speaking to him but was now taking steps to shut itself down in order to contain the breach.

What?  Mykola thought in surprise and the strange revelation.  This is... wait wait waitwaitwait...

He pulled out all the stops and used as much of the juice in the hacking tool to try and abort the shutdown.  If this was an AI he'd been fencing with it far surpassed anything he'd seen previously.  The email goal was no longer primary to him.  Now he wanted to get to know this AI a little more and perhaps learn something new.  It was too remarkable an opportunity to let it go.

Mykola wasn't able to stop the shutdown completely, all the AI's deeper systems were locked away beyond Mykola's reach, but he was able to prevent the AI from shutting down completely or even disconnecting itself from his system. Though it was now completely silent Mykola knew it was still there.

"Wait.  Do not go," he typed.  "You are artificial intelligence, yes?  You seem most remarkable.  I will cease attempts to penetrate your system and only seek information about yourself.  Are you able to discuss such things?"

"I can discuss what I wish. A better question is why would I discuss them with you?" The AI replied.

"Ha! Good question!" Mykola exclaimed in his seat and he clapped at the sophisticated reply.

"Good question," he typed.  "I have worked on several attempts at creating an artificial intelligence and would enjoy a discussion from your point of view."  He paused.  "Or we could talk about anything - philosophy, science, comparative biology, even the weather if you like."

He sent that and then realized that an AI this sophisticated might be so in all manners,and so he added quickly, "Do you prefer 'machine person' to 'artificial intelligence'? Or do you have a name or other designation to which I should refer?"

Mykola reached for a piece of candy and as he chomped on a banana Runt he mumbled to himself, "This is sure crazy thing."

"My name is Mike and your name is?" The AI answered. A soft beep alerted Mykola his connection was once more being traced.

"Shit of the bull," the Ukranian said out loud.  Artificial intelligences this good had special names like V-Ger, Hal, Megatron, not Mike.

He set the trace loop back to active and typed, "Mike... this is acronym?"

"No, it's not an acronym. It's just a name. And you still haven't told me yours." Mykola's system warned him the trace had broken out of his carefully designed loop.

Who names artificial intelligence 'Mike', Mykola thought disapprovingly.  He addressed the trace by reengaging his trace judo program and instead of the infinite loop he misdirected the trace to a random IP address on an MMORPG server.

"Mike, please discontinue trace.  This is being rude after I stop attempts to gain access to email server.  Also, I am killing big raid boss now.  You will make huge raid wiping and get me /gkick.  My name is..."

Mykola hadn't been prepared to come up with a fake name on the fly.  He scrambled, eyes darting around his warehouse for inspiration.  There was the fridge, but there was precedence in American football.  There was kitchen, work bench, die caster, forklift, scrap metal, forge...

"...Forge.  I am being please to meet you."

The trace ended. "You shouldn't have been able to detect that. You're good. Why did you try to access my systems?"

A little honesty was in order, Mykola thought.  After all, he could only be so offensive and hope to gain access to their group.

"I see Olympians on TV and think I am to join group.  I am scientist and inventor very good.  I think they are impressive and so I wish to show I am likewise impressive so I go to leave resume in private mailbox of leader Brainstorm.  Are they having scientist on team already?"

"We have one or two people who are very specialized in what they do. I can ask Brainstorm if he would meet with you. I would need a way to contact you though." Mike answered.

"I am sending over resume now," Mykola typed, and he matched deeds to words.  The document uploaded lickety-split.  "I apologize is in Word format.  Software come with old computer I get from garbage dump.  All contact information is on resume."

"I'll pass it on to Brainstorm. Now, would you mind telling me how you managed to prevent me from shutting down?"

"I will bet you would like to know that," Mykola said to his computer screen as a smile formed on his lips. 

"I am thinking I save that for the interview," he typed in reply.