Scrolling through the options for a good couple minutes, he finally found what he wanted.   The gates could be opened remotely.   Just like with the interface sharing, he could add authorized individuals who would be able to open it.  Then he had some options for remote activation method and security settings.   The gate could be opened with a specific sound, like a whistle or a tune, or a phrase.  It could be set so that the sensors recognized the authorized individuals and opened the gates as they approached.   There was a biometric option that required a handprint and eye scan.

With Evan and his murderers in mind, Allistor went all out.  He chose the biometric option, combined with a passphrase and the sensor recognition.  The three together cost ten thousand system points, but he figured it was worth it.  If he was being pursued back to the gate, he likely wouldn’t have time to get out, open the gates, drive through, then get out and close them again.   He set the system so that it required two of the three be activated.  Either sensors and password, sensors and biometric, or biometric and password.

Approving the transaction, he watched as a post grew up from the ground next to the truck.  A flat screen with a red handprint on it began flashing at him.  He set his hand on it, and there was a brief tingle.

Biometric pattern uploaded:  Allistor, Giant Killer.  Please set passphrase.

He snorted to himself over the system’s use of his title, but said, “Passphrase is Fibble.” He decided to use the name of a beloved character from a series he’d read that was based on MMORPGs.  It seemed fitting.

Passphrase confirmed.  Please list individuals authorized for access and access level.

A list of the Warren’s residents popped up.  He authorized Sam, Meg, and Luther as full access, and designated the ability for them to add or remove people from the list.  Everyone except him.

With that done, the gates opened before him, and he drove through.  They obligingly shut behind him as he slowly pulled away.  Before he could forget, he picked up the radio and called Sam, giving him the details.    When Sam asked, “What’s a Fibble?” he just chuckled and said, “I’ll see if I can find you a copy of the books sometime.”

And just like that, lightning struck!  Books!  Movies!  How much would Earth stories and art sell on the open market?  He asked Sam that question, and he could hear the man shaking his head on the other end of the line.  “Leave it to you, boy.  I’ll have our people start looking for hardcover books and intact DVDs and players while they’re out.  Maybe find a library.”