Hacker's Memory

I started the trip back home when I realized how far I had walked. I was over five kilometers from my apartment and I was too tired to make the walk. I still don't remember how I got home, but somehow I eventually found myself back in my apartment as the edges of the clouds had just started to lighten. I guess I must have fallen asleep, since the next thing I can remember is waking up sometime during the "day" and sending my employer an email telling him of my failure. They wouldn't be able to hire anyone else in time to complete the job, so they would never get their precious research data. I swear those freaks must be on 24/7... less than sixty seconds later I got a pissed off reply telling me I could forget my retainer, and they would trash my reputation for screwing up the job. Not that I gave a shit. Not that I ever give a shit.

That day was cold, like any winter day in Newport. Rain fell endlessly from the sky, and not the kind of rain you want in your hair. I was still a little toasted from the burnout, and I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going. I ended up in the subways, blindly taking the trains I'd taken hundreds of times leading me to the central hub. There you can catch a subway train to pretty much anywhere in Newport at almost every time of day. The high open ceiling of the hub is covered with some sort of self-cleaning translucent material that lets you see part of the Newport skyline on clear days. That day you could just make out the Citicor building and her sister towers. I took the 913 train to Central Park, taking me right below those buildings. Nothing was leading me, but I finally ended up in front of the Omega Plaza where my "official" hacking employers kept their legit offices. The secretary recognized me and let me in to see Johannes Fitzberg, my "boss" and part time partner in crime. We'd been like brothers once, before my life took me to the dregs of electronic subterfuge and his took him to the top of the corporate chain. We both know what got him there, but the ethics that kept me from doing what he did are the same ethics that kept me from mentioning it.

John didn't waste much time. He'd never been one for small talk or delicate terminology.

He said to me, "That was a pretty shitty job last night."

I wanted to beat the shit out of him then and there, but I didn't. I said something like, "Well you're the one with all the insider info, didn't you hear something?"

He just gave me a look like I'd just pissed on his desk. "What’s wrong with you, pal? You made the run after I sent you the warning, don't pin your fuck-ups on me."

I wasn't feeling that unforgiving at the moment, which is probably what saved me. I asked him, "Then did you send this warning?"

He just rolled his eyes back at me and said something like, "Yesterday, probably 16:00."

I remembered not checking my mail that afternoon, but only ever getting that spam from my employers. I just left it at that. Part of me thought it might just have been the burnout, but somewhere I realized that I had never read that mail.

I wandered for a few more hours before I finally went home. I won't say some cheapass dramatic shit like that I could somehow sense that something was wrong, but I'll be straight. Something wasn't right. I checked my mail and there sat the message, read at 16:27 just when I'd gotten home. Johannes warned me that Sigma had a new form of undocumented security and to watch my step in the system. Easy enough, but even without burnout I wouldn't have gone into the system the way I did. I tried thinking back to my entry into the system, what I'd seen, what I'd done. The only thing I saw was a burning white cloud trying to suck me in.