She entered her authorization codes and watched as Phoenix came online. Every system on Flight 847 was now under her control. She started with something subtle. Blake Morrison's entertainment screen flickered off, then displayed a message. Service temporarily unavailable.
Please contact flight crew. Blake pressed the call button. Ashley appeared within seconds. My screen isn't working. I'll reset it for you, sir.
Ashley pressed buttons on Blake's armrest panel. The screen remained dark. I'm sorry, Mr. Morrison. Let me get our technical specialist. Lisa Anderson emerged from the galley.
She was the junior flight attendant barely 6 months on the job. She'd witnessed the seating incident and felt uncomfortable about it, but hadn't spoken up. What seems to be the problem? His entertainment system won't start, Ashley explained. Lisa examined the seat.
She checked connections, rebooted the system, tried manual overrides. Nothing worked. I'm not sure what's wrong, Lisa admitted. The hardware looks fine. This is ridiculous, Blake said.
I'm paying first class prices for economy service. We'll compensate you for the inconvenience, sir. Compensation? I need entertainment for a 7-hour flight. In row 34, Victoria typed another command.
Blake's reading light began flashing on and off in a slow hypnotic rhythm. "Now what?" Blake called Ashley back over. "It's probably just an electrical issue," Ashley said, though her voice was less confident. Victoria waited 5 minutes, then executed her next command. Blake's seat began reclining and returning to upright position in slow mechanical cycles.
Okay, this is getting ridiculous, Blake announced to the entire cabin. I demand to speak to the captain. Sir, the captain is preparing for departure. I'm sure we can resolve this. You've had 20 minutes to resolve this.
The seat is malfunctioning. The screen is broken and the light is having a seizure. Move me to a different seat. Ashley looked around first class. Every seat was occupied.
I'm sorry, Mr. Morrison. We're completely full in first class. Then upgrade someone from business class. We're full in business class, too. Blake stood up, frustrated.
Then what exactly do you suggest? That's when Victoria Hayes appeared in the first class cabin. She walked slowly up the aisle carrying her tablet. Conversation stopped. Passengers turned to watch.
There was something different about her now, more confident, more purposeful. Excuse me, she said to Ashley. I couldn't help but notice Mr. Morrison is having technical difficulties. Ashley looked confused. I'm sorry.
Are you? I'm the passenger you moved to economy from seat 1A. Victoria's voice was calm but carried clearly through the cabin. Which happens to be Mr. Morrison's problem seat. Blake turned around.
What are you talking about? I'm talking about the fact that every malfunction you're experiencing corresponds exactly to unauthorized access attempts in the flight management system. English, please. Victoria held up her tablet. The screen showed diagnostic readouts from Blake's seat.
Real-time data streaming from sensors embedded in the aircraft. Someone is remotely accessing this plane's computers. They're targeting your specific seat. The question is, why would someone want to mess with Blake Morrison's flight experience? Blake stared at the data.
Even he could recognize the patterns. Every malfunction corresponded to a spike in network activity. Who would do that? Someone who thinks you don't deserve that seat. Isabella Fairmont had been listening to every word.
She stood up and walked over. What exactly are you implying? Isabella's tone was icy. I'm not implying anything. I'm stating facts.
Someone with access to this plane's computer systems is causing problems for Mr. Morrison. The timing suggests it's related to the seating dispute. That's preposterous. You're suggesting someone is hacking into commercial aviation systems. Victoria looked directly at Isabella.
I'm suggesting that actions have consequences. Sometimes those consequences are immediate. Sophia Martinez had stopped pretending to be discreet. Her phone was openly recording the conversation. Her live stream viewer count had jumped to 8,000.
"This is getting good," she whispered to her audience. "The lady they kicked out is back, and she seems to know something about what's happening." David Thornton leaned forward in his seat. As a civil rights attorney, he recognized the dynamic playing out. Someone with power was evening the score. "Ma'am," he called to Victoria.
"Are you saying you know who's responsible for these technical problems?" Victoria smiled. "I'm saying that sophisticated computer systems respond to sophisticated commands. Someone with expert knowledge could theoretically override safety systems, entertainment systems, even environmental controls." as if on Q. The temperature in first class dropped ten degrees. Passengers reached for overhead air vents, but the controls didn't respond.
Blake Morrison was now wearing his expensive jacket and shivering. This is insane, he said. Someone is sabotaging this plane. Not sabotaging, Victoria corrected, demonstrating, showing exactly how vulnerable these systems are when someone with access decides to make a point. Ashley Palmer was in full crisis mode.
Ma'am, are you admitting to interfering with aircraft systems? I'm admitting to understanding aircraft systems. There's a difference. Captain Mendoza's voice filled the cabin. Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some minor technical issues that will delay our departure.
We apologize for any inconvenience. Blake looked around the cabin. Every passenger was staring at him. Some looked sympathetic, others looked like they were enjoying his discomfort. "Fine," he said suddenly.