Related Chapters (5)
Islanding
Words: 3368 · Source Novel:: Fault Current
As dusk falls on the festival, Lott and an armed response unit infiltrate the data center's cold aisles. They find Hyatt, immobile in a powered wheelchair, surrounded by screens that display the city’s pulsing grid. In a tense confrontation, Hyatt argues that the FSA created him by stripping his dignity—anonymity merely gave him the courage to deliver justice. Lott must wrestle with the circuit in her own past while convincing him to spare the grid. A final, violent struggle ends with Hyatt initiating a partial blackout, causing three critical-care generators to stall. Lott disables his console with a kinetic shot, but not before he murmurs that he has already seeded his code everywhere. In the aftermath, the city survives, yet the final logs show hundreds of dormant devices still listening. Lott files her report under a growing, shadowy phrase: infrastructure homicide. The system remains vulnerable, and the screen never forgets.
Phantom Load
Words: 2497 · Source Novel:: Fault Current
With panic spreading, the Federal Security Director publicly refuses to negotiate with a phantom. NullHyatt then uploads stolen psychological evaluations, exposing agency doctors who knowingly rubber-stamped denials. Lott uses this data to profile Hyatt’s fractured psyche: he isn’t just killing people, he’s trying to rewrite his own life sentence by becoming an invisible god. Following a trace embedded in a recycled aluminum smelter’s SCADA system, Lott’s team narrows the signal to a derelict data center on the tidal estuary. But Hyatt counters by threatening a grand finale—a cascading blackout during the city’s annual Harvest Festival, when hospitals and streetlights will fail, turning his remote execution spree into mass chaos.
Water Hammer
Words: 2138 · Source Novel:: Fault Current
The attacks escalate. A downtown FSA branch office is flooded during a rehabilitation review hearing when hackers manipulate the municipal water grid, causing pipes to burst and short-circuiting the lift system—two investigators drown trapped in a submerged elevator. NullHyatt releases a manifesto, demanding the public release of every denied legitimate claim file, his words dripping with the vengeful clarity of a man liberated by anonymity. Lott identifies a potential physical access point: a disused pumping station linked to Hyatt’s former employer. The stakeout fails, but Lott receives a taunting message through her own apartment’s smart speaker, proving the killer can reach anyone, anywhere, and that the city’s entire infrastructure is his fingerboard.
Null Protocol
Words: 2973 · Source Novel:: Fault Current
A forensics sweep of the victims' smart meters reveals a ghost—a predatory malware that overrides safety limits on household currents and water pressure. Lott partners with a rogue ethical hacker from the National Cyber Forensics Lab, who traces the malicious code to a darknet forum signatured "NullHyatt." The posts mock the FSA and claim credit for turning the agency's own denied claims into death warrants. Disturbingly, the online persona’s writing style and technical knowledge perfectly match the late Aaron Hyatt. Lott visits the fire site and finds ambiguous dental records, growing convinced Hyatt staged his death and now operates with the impunity of a deleted user account.
Faulty Insulation
Words: 2976 · Source Novel:: Fault Current
Detective Superintendent Eve Lott investigates the death of a Federal Security Agency claims officer who was scalded to death in his own electronically controlled bathroom. Labeled an accident, the death mirrors two other recent "equipment failures" involving former FSA staff. Lott's gut tells her these are connected, but her superiors dismiss her. Digging through the victims' case histories, she discovers a single common file: the notorious denial of lifelong disability benefits to Aaron Hyatt, a brilliant infrastructure engineer left paralyzed after a workplace accident. The official report says Hyatt died in a house fire months ago, closing his case forever—or so the agency claims.

