Bots similar to recycle bots swept Apple Mire Suites. The grey eggs scanned along the hallways in a sweep that lasted over an hour. Despite their giving the all-clear signal to residents, some apartment vigilantes were still paranoid. Depending on their choice of news station, some would stay paranoid. Therefore, across corridors, residents took it upon themselves to patrol and shout, "Report suspicious activity!"
Inside room 59, however, Only Jessica's desktop gave any kind of hum. A standout voice reported yesterday's events, live, with a remorseful tone. Listening to him talk about Pine Rim Hovels was like wading through mud in the rain, but she liked the man's earnestness. She listened, beside the door, huddled in her corner opposite the holo-screen, face buried in her knees. She hadn't bothered to change out of sleepwear, despite noon.
"This is more than a list of names..."
Patiently, she awaited his recitation of the victims' names. He went so far as to add epithets.
"Jeromy Terence Leone was an afterschool technician who had arrived two years ago to help his mother...
"Dolores Bunham Alowitz was a sitter who, at the time, was looking after a friend's German Shepard...
"Karl Huam Yunis was a driving instructor for the DSV whose friends said he would bring flowers for all the clerks...
"Bethany B. Sanders was a retired firefighter whose long years of service awarded her The Medal of Courage, The Medal of Gallantry, Service Recognition Medal, and Distinguished Service Cross; those who remember her said, 'Beth's defining trait was that she never placed herself further than second'..."
In the pause that followed, the reporter surrendered a moment to suppress his impending emotional breakdown. His choked cough hit the microphone before he continued. "Ingrid G. Nguyen developed—"
A ring dialed over the broadcast. The call appeared on the monitor and Jessica lifted her head. It was Shannon's whimsical face, possibly the one person who could hope to lift her spirits. She did not answer.
Hitherto, Jessica lived in a pit of lethargy. Two days since she nearly died, the solitude slowly festered into pessimistic thoughts.
"I'll kill myself if I stay here."
After a deep sigh, she decided to change clothes.
***
David took a break from his computer to peer through the office window. The seventh floor's employees went on as normal, diligent and undisturbed. Sunlight hit the lotus vase on his desk. Their petals, something about the yellow tinge distracted him. Then he paid closer attention; curiously, the flower reminded him of a fist.
Eventually, he abandoned his seat to stretch his legs, but the moment he opened the door and beheld the cadre of busybodies, restlessness returned. Instead, he paced around the room, intently watching his staff's collaborations, then peered at the memo board.
He walked over to the terminal with half-eaten tacos. "Azeem," he beckoned.
The engineer looked up, startled—swallowed, cleared his throat—and darted his eyes. "Yes, mister director?"
"Director. Do me a favor and pull up the caches from two days ago."
"Of course!" Azeem's monitor conjured a stream of files.
"Now, I want you to find the outbound signals."
"Are we looking for something specific?"
"I need to know who transmitted the coordinates during the attack."
"Uh, Okay." After several commands and clicks, Azeem replied, "These are the terminals that received the triangulation, and then... Hmm?"
"What is it?"
"That's your address, sir. The outbound signal came from your terminal."
"What?" David nosed into the screen. "That makes no sense."
"Am I being tested?" Azeem started defensively. "Did I do something wrong, boss? I can fix it!"
"I'm confused, too."
"Then what is going on, sir?"
The director stood pensively. Before he could ruminate on a single question, a mechanical voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Care to explain?"
He found Malvis over his shoulder. "Did you teleport here, somehow?"
"Director," Malvis started seriously, "can you explain the peculiar case lain before us?"
"Not right now," he said. "But neither can you because you were standing next to me during the chaos."
Malvis straightened his lenses and nonchalantly brushed past David. He began pacing back and forth at a sloth's pace, hands folded behind his back as he scanned the room and its employees. Like a detective surveying a crime scene.
Without a word, the alien ignited his holo-brace and vegan inputting characters.
"What are you doing?" said David, but he was ignored.
When he returned, upright, Malvis whispered, "We must consult the security records."
In a dark room with a grid of holo-panels for a wall, David and Malvis split their attention across a compilation of camera footage presided over by a security officer at a half-ring desk. His eyes looked like a pair of binoculars, thanks to a wired headset. The guard in grey reset every playback to the second New Sumer's countdown started. 04.07.29.12.21.46 and onward.
David shrunk at the sight of his own room in the footage. "It's empty."
"Clearly," replied Malvis, transfixed. Every other screen depicted employees in a panicked crunch. No one noticed the engineer who passed out at the back of the room.
"Pause," exclaimed Malvis. "Rewind three seconds." He sauntered closer then pointed to the upper left, at the precipice of the fifth-floor stairs, indicating a hat, colorful suit, and a face that steered away from the camera. Obviously, a woman. In another feed, the stranger's full body was visible, identity still elusive. "This is a variable stranger."
David stared dubiously. "Where was the timer countdown?"
The security guard motioned to the memo board. "13:27," he said.
"Resume playback," said Malvis.
"Where'd she go?" said David.
Malvis stared at the images, stiff and silent. "There." The woman's figure was inconspicuously inching into the director's room.
David's jaw dropped. "That is an employee hat."
"Not an employee uniform."
The director peered at the memo board once more. "Less than twelve minutes." The unknown woman sat in his office, working his computer with a custom drive. Within another playback panel, hands shot upward. It was at that moment the girl became a statue. "What is she doing?" David muttered. She removed the flash drive before hurriedly stepping out of the office, unnoticed.
"Stop playback," exclaimed Malvis. "Magnify."
Closer, the female's face fell on the fringe of being identified. Malvis examined her stoically. "I have made contact with this human female."
David eyed his tall superior. "Yeah... Who is she?"
"I hoped you might enlighten us."
"I wouldn't know, hence my question."
As soon as he heard the distant ding of the elevator, Malvis stepped out of the security room. David slogged after him, startled when he saw two armed guards now present on the floor. No run-of-the-mill security but Asgard, the black Azarean uniform.
"What's going on?"
Malvis stopped mid-stride and turned, removing his glasses. His were scarlet, with the characteristic Azarean glow. "David Mourner, you are under arrest for conspiring in domestic terrorism."
"How am I—" An Azarean accosted him with iron cuffs. Without orders, Malvis' enforcer then pinned him to the ground. The entire room, a room of oblivious clerks and security stripes, gawked while the director bitterly tussled with his restraints. "I didn't do anything!"
Malvis kneeled beside a helpless David, angling a callous gaze until they met eyes. "You attested to a backdoor before the terrorist breach, director."
"And recommended an immediate fix!"
"Very few parties were privy to the information of a potential breach, yet SK-3 was, evidently, compromised. The web of our system would not allow that happenstance overnight. Aware of its fault before anyone else, I believe you mined the discovery and transmitted the finds to your Resistance compatriots: Sub Terra."
"You have no evidence of that!"
"And then there is our third-party... Who is Lynx, former director?"
"I don't know!"
"What is the identity of the woman who infiltrated your branch?"
"I don't know that, either!"
Malvis leaned closer. "Then you shall be interned until Goliath extracts everything you do know. Asgard, meanwhile, shall keep the peace and seek out the resistance. Whatever you withhold shall work against you in the undertaking. The end begins with the details we have acquired thus far." He stood up, canted his head left then right, and let the guards heave David from the ground. To everyone else's surprise, David chuckled at his predicament, so he drew attention to the peculiar grin on his face. "Do you find something amusing?"
"I find something hilarious!" David scoffed. "SK-3 was supposed to be your new benchmark. You were hacked, and an infraction on your part doesn't even compute in that long skull!"
After a wave of the hand, Asgard departed with David's spiteful canines in tow. Malvis steered his red eyes over the nervous workforce before him.
"New directive!" he bellowed. "Within the next hour, I shall require all pertinent information on the following query:
"T. A. C. Q. U. I. Z. Z. A."
ns 15.158.61.42da2
