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CHAPTER 3
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FEDERATION DATA BANK
BRANCH No. HTS4568328EED
SPECIALIZATION: Unknown
SPECIFICATION: Unknown
HEADQUARTERS: Unknown
STATUS: Restricted (Access Level: %#$%#^^@)
WARNING: LOG OUT!!!
Shandra stared in disbelief at what appeared on the monitor. A data bank impersonating a nonexistent Federation branch, effectively impersonating it, because if it still exists, that means the cops haven't tracked it down. Or maybe it's some kind of trick, like those virus databases that, with a single click, bring down your system, before spreading to all your friends?
But no. After checking a few things, Sha discovered with some surprise that the mysterious bank had been online for quite some time, and virus databases were appearing and disappearing like mushrooms after the rain. Of course, one could assume that some hacker was skilled enough to have managed to evade the cops. But that would contradict the cardinal rule in this environment: "do your job quickly and disappear, covering all traces." No professional would announce their online presence like that, publicly. And anyone foolish enough to do so would be caught immediately.
Besides, the mysterious Someone at the bank hadn't tried to be subtle at all. The specifications were unknown, so to speak. If she had wanted to encourage innocent, unsuspecting internet users to visit her virus bank, she would have provided the most reliable information possible. And the mysterious Someone acted as if he were trying to scare away potential "customers" by providing the most suspicious information possible.
"What's going on here..." – she muttered to herself, while doing some reconnaissance.
After her strange conversation with Dail, she felt a bit devastated, unsure what to make of it all, especially considering her father's behavior, but not so devastated that she couldn't do what she had to do. So, as soon as she returned to her room, she shook herself—a skill she'd mastered perfectly over the years—and returned to her work. She didn't learn anything new from the documents she'd downloaded, but she wasn't overly disappointed; she'd expected that. It only confirmed what she already knew, something that had been nagging at her for six years: David and Suzana Kilpatrick weren't her biological parents. It wasn't really that; after all, she wasn't the only adopted child in the universe, as evidenced by the terabytes of data on the subject in various banks. It wasn't even that they hadn't told her, or that she hadn't felt like their child. On the contrary, she'd always felt wanted and loved, no less than Julie or Gavin. Sometimes she even thought that should have been enough, that she was reading too much into the whole thing, that she should give up her search, even tell her family, but every time such thoughts came to her, something like today happened.
Her father was covering for Daile. Not for the first time, anyway. Instead of taking her side or even explaining anything to her, he simply told her to go to sleep.
She wiped away an unwanted tear and scrolled through the adoption records again. What mattered wasn't what was there, but what wasn't.
The lack of any information about her biological parents was one thing. Her medical records, modified later than the rest, were two. And finally, three, the Kilpatricks' personal data was incomplete and often contradictory to what she had managed to determine using other sources, with the financial data showing particularly poor consistency. According to official reports, before the adoption and the subsequent—and equally puzzling—move to Celeborn, Suzana and David worked in their own company, just as they do now. However, after a closer look, Shandra concluded that the company didn't yet exist physically back then, and the money flowed to her parents from some other, mysterious source. Stranger still, according to public records, the Kilpatricks had previously lived in a medium-sized town on Sessleya in the Sardram system, only a few spacecraft from Marrayar. But Sha, posing as an official from the Federation Demographics Office, questioned everyone who might know anything about it, and it turned out that none of the supposed neighbors remembered a young couple with a child, like Gavin at the time. However, they did remember quite well a different, noisy family of seven, living in the house the Kilpatricks were supposed to occupy. Sha even went so far as to show Gavin several holograms from Sessleya. He didn't recognize any of them. He claimed, however, that from his early childhood, all he remembered was a large, menacing Starfleet fighter, which he sometimes dreamed of. That was why he had insisted on becoming a pilot. When he asked his parents where they'd seen it, they looked at each other strangely and said they couldn't remember exactly, but that there must have been some military exhibition on Sessleya when they lived there, and that must have been where he'd seen the fighter. This conversation led to a series of strange, evasive, and quickly cut short conversations about Sessleya and the Kilpatricks' previous home. Julie wanted to see the photos, but her mother claimed that some of their luggage, containing all the photos, films, and holograms, had gone missing during the move. Julie refused to believe it; after all, her mother always carried a huge stack of photos in her wallet and had about thirty films loaded onto her laptop. Suzana defended herself, saying she'd developed this habit precisely because of that event. She convinced Gavin and Julie, but not Shandra.
Furthermore, the fighter model Gavin was describing hadn't been produced until three years after they'd settled on Celeborn IV. It was the least convincing evidence; it could mean absolutely nothing. After all, the mind plays the strangest tricks on people, but it was strangely unsettling.
She sighed, making a mental note to check what the intelligent probes she'd sent out, modeled after Class 10 virtual cops, had managed to dig up about her parents' sources of income, and she set about breaching the security of the mysterious data bank.
At 3:30 a.m., she gave up, having learned nothing, after a spectacular escape from whatever had detected and located her, seemingly without the slightest problem.
"Damn it!" she expressed her frustration with a whispered curse. She made sure it hadn't gotten to her after all, triple-checked the security, closed all connections to the outside world, and went to bed, only to lose touch with a reality she didn't particularly like for three hours, sinking into the blissful depths of sleep—black, deep, and visionless.
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CHAPTER 4
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On a forgotten planet somewhere on the outskirts of the Milky Way, the cradle of civilization called Earth, once blue-white and beautiful, now empty and barren, a sigh could be heard in a bunker built deep beneath the surface. A tall, well-built individual, recognizable as a human at first glance, stretched out in the comfortable armchair that surrounded him on all sides.
"What's up, Merl?" Addressing the author of the sigh, he broke the long-simmering silence that had been hanging over the room.
From another armchair, seemingly larger only because the creature sitting in it was frail and much smaller than its companion, a hoarse voice answered:
"Someone tried to break in again.
" "So, did they succeed?" The larger man glanced longingly at the door disappearing into the darkness—his shift ended in two hours—and then looked at his colleague. Damn, he thought, how can this Perlesian last so long? As far as he knew, Merl had never left this forbidden planet, even leaving the control room to eat and sleep, which was very rare for him. Unlike Merl, his large, red-haired companion was human, and although this planet was considered the cradle of his race, he didn't like being here. He couldn't wait for the shuttle to arrive with the next crew. Six months away from this hellhole—that was all he dreamed of.
Merl dismissed the giant's question with a disapproving grunt.
"Then why are you sighing so much? Someone's always trying to break in. "
Before answering, the Perlesian ran his very slender, six-fingered hands over the touchscreen.
"Because"—he heavily emphasized each word, perhaps to add meaning, but more likely because of the outdated bioelectronic device replacing his larynx, which he refused to replace with a newer one—"this wasn't just any ordinary break-in attempt, Amber."
The redhead grimaced, as he always did when he heard his name.
"What was so special about it?"
"Even if you ignore the fact that it almost worked...
" "WHAT???
" "...even if you ignore that fact, there's something else unusual. I've traced the source to Celeborn IV," the Perlesian said, ignoring his colleague's shocked expression.
Their gazes met. Merlin narrowed his eyes, his silver-gray, pupil-less irises. Some people found it difficult to look into them, feeling as if they were talking to a blind person, but Amber had known the old Perlesian long enough to get used to it.
"The same distinctive signature?" he asked.
"Yes." Merl sighed again. "Although very cleverly camouflaged, you have to admit. It took me almost ten minutes to locate the source," he added, appreciating the mysterious burglar. "Besides, reaching a specific person is impossible. Even disregarding the planet's natural handicaps, our someone has taken good precautions."
Amber shifted in his seat and scratched the back of his neck, a habit he'd developed a few days after his first arrival. It was the presence of the metacrystals into which much of the planet's core had been transformed that was affecting him. He couldn't understand how Merl could stand it.
"One of our enemies?
" "Perhaps." Merlin ran his fingers over the symbols on the screen. His arms were bent in a way that had always seemed unnatural to Amber, even though he'd known Merl for years. "Or maybe not. Look what he was getting at."
The red-haired giant groaned and leaned forward in his seat to access the screen lying flat in front of him.
"Mhmmm..." he muttered as columns of data began to flash on the appropriate screen. "I wonder. Who could find that cleverly placed reference in the adoption documents and simultaneously send out probes for the Kilpatricks' monetary transactions?
" "Try your brain and guess," Merl snorted. "And don't forget, this isn't the first time we've breached the seal on data even indirectly related to this case. And the search seems to align. Who do you think…
" "Oh, your countrymen, for example. They know best that following the money trail can lead to some really interesting places…"
The Perlesian's whole demeanor expressed pity and irritation.
"…or…" Amber continued, "you don't think that…
" "What I think means nothing. What matters is what SHE thinks." The word "SHE" was pronounced in clear, capital letters.
"Do you really think SHE needs to be informed?
" "Yes." Merl ended the discussion before it even really began, running his fingers across the screen, and the communications metacrystals in the planet's core momentarily became metacrystals elsewhere. The message was transmitted.
To be continued.
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